Frozen - A Sky Full of Stars
by LeGrande Grover
Summary: Set after The Snow Queen and the FireHeart, Elsa and Yasha embrace the connection they found on their path to Fria, unaware that there are those in Arendelle that are not so eager to accept the union of the young Queen and her crucible Prince. With Yasha still harboring his secrets and Elsa being challenged by her duties as Queen, they will discover if their love can truly endure.
1. Beneath the Envious Moon

**I**

Beneath the Envious Moon

A sky full of stars reigned above the kingdom of Arendelle. They burned overhead like the countless sparkles in the eyes of lovers, and cast pale light into the chambers of the Snow Queen, carefully lining the carpeted floor with straight lines and shadows. It was the cool of night, like an afterthought of winter's embrace, and Elsa had been humming softly as she attended to every detail of her appearance, looking into the crystal clarity of the mirror before her, yet letting her eyes drift back and forth to the shadows, a gentle smile on her lips.

In those shadows, the dark recesses of the starlight, a figure was standing quietly, watching her with unyielding eyes, and listening to her angelic voice. His presence brought her comfort, even if she was slightly annoyed at how little he was helping her focus on the task at hand.

Letting out a short breath, she suddenly drew on her magic and caused her blue dress to change once more, making the sleeves run longer and the collar grow up her neck. Delicate loops slipped around her middle fingers and drew the sleeves tightly across her arms, while the slit in her dress completely seal up, making it far less practical and oppressive, yet reflected the pensive thoughts that churned behind her scrutinizing eyes. For some reason, she felt inclined to cover up as much as possible.

"How about now? Does it look better this way?" she asked, flaring her arms out to her sides and letting her eyes linger on the shadow in the shadows.

The shadow's response was delayed as two pale eyes caught errant slivers of moonlight, showing that while he was trying to fulfill his duty as her fashion advisor, his mind had been somewhere else. "I believe that is the seventh time you have changed it," Yasha finally replied, shifting uncomfortably in the darkness and letting out a quiet sigh. "It does not matter what length you wear it, or the shape of the seam. You are beautiful, and will unavoidably take their breath away,"

The comments made her skin flush slightly and she turned to him, smirking as she crossed her arms over her chest, feigning anger. "Don't think you can sweet talk your way out of this. I really need to know how it looks. This is an important reception," she complained, frowning a bit at the thought of the impending gathering in the great hall of the castle and letting her concerns show through her expression. It had been so abrupt and so vague that she barely even knew how to respond.

All she knew was that the Regent had insisted she come, and that she dress appropriately.

She did not know exactly what he meant by the second part.

Yasha had been watching her fidget and groan for nearly an hour, seeing her dress change to any number of lengths. He did not quite understand her mood, but was content to see flashes of her white skin, the way her red lips twisted and pouted, and turmoil in her blue eyes. While that might have betrayed some villainous intent, especially considering their history, it was innocently nothing more than a reminder of the intimate place he had with the Queen of Arendelle, and how their turbulent past had bloomed into something wonderful under the starry sky.

"If you would like my true opinion, I would advise that you wear it as a queen should," he suggested.

His remark drew another dry glance from her. "And how exactly should a queen wear it?" she asked, humoring him.

"Any way she sees fit," he replied.

The suggestion, while simple and endearing, did not take away the tension in her shoulders and she pressed her hands across the magical material, looking back to the mirror and trying once more assess the length. She was annoyed that he was not taking this serious, though it was the atmosphere of the evening that was truly aggravating.

"That's not very helpful," she sighed.

After another spate of anxiously trying to adjust the dress and painfully examining every aspect of her appearance, Elsa was nearly settled on a more formal neckline and sleeves, once more feeling a pit in her stomach as she thought of the Regent's warning about her attire. He was usually so straightforward with her. This vague reference to her appearance made her nervous, and she even considered putting her hair back up into a bun, though even just lifting her braid back up reminded her of the person she once was and the sadness of days long past. She felt she had come too far to step backwards. "Honestly, I'm really not looking forward to this. For some reason, I have a bad feeling," she admitted to the darkness as she knit her hands in front of her to try and give off a practiced, regal appearance.

Strangely, the person she saw in the mirror made her frown.

"Then do not go," he said, once more offering a simplified solution to her problem.

Turning around to him, she shook her head firmly and tried to relax her strange posture. "I can't do that. This is the Regent," she said.

"And you are the Queen," he pointed out.

Elsa sighed. "Try to understand, Yasha. Regent Stenson is one of Arendelle's most trusted nobles, and my closest advisor. He was my father's best friend and steward of the kingdom until I came of age. He's also one of the few that knew about my powers from the beginning. I can't refuse his request," she explained, feeling the weight of her own words and letting her shoulders drop. Many times she had obeyed his requests, on any countless number of things, but this night felt different.

This night sent chills throughout her body.

Yasha sighed as well and stepped out from the shadows, emerging into the starlight and leaning back against the frame of her balcony doors. His eyes wandered out to the kingdom beyond. "A shame. Had you done so, I would have been able to refuse as well," he remarked, though almost to himself.

Elsa stalled a moment, looking at him with an anxious expression at hearing he was also scheduled to attend this mysterious meeting. That was something she had not been aware of. "The Regent invited you?" she asked, her mind already trying to find the meaning in it.

Yasha nodded slowly, his eyes showing that he was doing the exact same thing. "He did," he replied, looking back to the confusion in her face. It only reassured him that the dread he shared with her was not just his imagination. His instincts appeared to be correct. "I am as surprised as you are. I do not know why they want an outsider to attend."

Elsa frowned at the way he saw himself. It was easy to get dragged into an argument about his place in Arendelle, and she was already too troubled to make an enemy of him. They had been there before, and those were not fond memories for her. Instead, she played the paramour and walked over to him, wanting to placate his concerns, but also be close to him for a moment and dispel the sour mood that had settled over them both. "Maybe it's a good sign. Maybe they're starting to see you not as an outsider, but as someone that belongs in Arendelle," she offered with a smile. "Like I do."

Yasha sighed again, leaning his head back against the jamb. "I wish I shared your expectations of the world," he said solemnly.

Sensing his slipping mood, she stepped closer and took his hands, feeling his warmth and the way it made it spread throughout her body. For a moment, she mused at how her past self would have reacted to this scene, when she had hated him and fought him and nearly killed him in the heated madness of their past. Now, she could not imagine a day without him, and marveled at the effect his simple touch had on her, for it felt like it could defeat even her strongest magic and shatter any ice, even as he no longer had the benefit of his magic or the FireHeart.

Strangely, she felt he might actually be more dangerous without them as she appealed to him with her eyes, and her heart. "The day will come when we don't have to hide behind curtains and slip through cracked doors. Someday, we'll be able to be together in the way we want, without the whispers and without the talk," she claimed, smiling softly for him and trying to help him imagine such a beautiful world.

His eyes lingered in her hopeful expression for several moments. "Now, I also wish for your reveries," he replied, though he visibly relaxed and squeezed her hands back.

Elsa's smile warmed as she saw him give in to her, and she slowly stretched up onto her toes to kiss him softly across his troubled lips, timidly but with much passion. The taste of him only made her own mood soften, and she stayed close – as close as she could. "Be patient," she whispered, "You're not the only one who wants this without any strings attached. I'm the Queen. I'll figure out how to make this work."

His pale gray eyes stayed on her for the longest time, searching her for the source of her confidence. Feeling her heat, he cupped his hand across her back and held her close to him. Regardless of how he felt about the welcome he had received since coming to Arendelle, he found her embrace ample reason to endure, and look for this world she spoke of, the one that would allow them to be together. As one kiss was not enough for his desire, he repaid her with a much deeper one, denying the cool air of the evening with the fire that existed between them. There was a slight flare of her magic as a thin frost crept out from the floor beneath her feet, though it did not disturb their kiss. Not even the world mattered in those few quiet moments they had together, where the only sin was that they had to separate to breathe.

Love was a strange state of being, when even the air was nothing more than an petty reason to part.

After pulling back from him, Elsa struggled to catch her breath and softly patted him on the chest, not even daring to look up into his eyes as she tried to get her mind, and body, back on track. "We have to go, before you tempt me anymore to ignore the Regent's invitation," she said hotly.

Yasha did not want to let her go so easily and pulled her back towards him, an impish glimmer in his eyes. "You rarely show such resistance with the moon overhead," he purred, and it made her laugh bitterly, then finally look up at him.

Elsa almost lost herself in his eyes, then softly ran her fingers down his cheek. Not even she had been prepared for how utterly helpless she had become when he looked at her with such passion. Once more, she realized at how dangerous he was. "Go," she ordered, then returned his playful mood with a weak smile of her own, "before I call my guards and tell there's a shadow in my chambers."

Her words and her voice were a contradiction, and Yasha inwardly mused how poorly the entirety of the Royal Guard would fare in trying to take her from his arms, though in the end, he obeyed her anyway. Taking a reluctant step back from her, his hand slipped away from hers until they were separate, and cold once more. "As you command," he replied, obeying the false demands and bowing ceremoniously to her. The act was both silly and cruel, and she had no response to either reaction. She could only watch as he vaulted himself up onto the stone railing of her balcony, standing inches from the sheer drop the rocky fjord below, his feet scraping over the stony edge.

As it always did, seeing him standing there made her heart race, and she once more felt the utter terror that he should fall. "Yasha," she suddenly blurted and it made him turn. At once, she remembered that he had disappeared over that cliff many times, taking the secret path that only he knew, only to return again to her the next time she longed for him, constant and without fail. That security made a smile finally break through her troubles, and she gave him the most alluring look.

"Don't be late."

At once, he knew this was not a warning about the reception, but for another encounter completely. In their time together, he had grown to understand her in spite of her words and the meaning was so apparent that it made him bow to her once more, though this time as a genuine promise that he would not disobey what she had truly meant.

_After the reception, don't be late in coming back here to me._

His eyes affectionately upon her, he repeated his words, though her heart fluttered at their potency, and she marveled how he could project so much more depth on the the exact same melody of words.

"As you command."

With no concern for his footing, Yasha suddenly turned and disappeared over the railing and into the night beyond, becoming nothing more than wind that gusted through her now empty chambers. Once more, Elsa felt the overwhelming desire to run over and see how he managed to escape her secluded balcony, but she stayed where she was, leaving him his secrets and the way they made her heart race. One day, she would find out how he did it.

For the moment, she was satisfied that he knew how to return.

The chiming of the clock in her room signaled that she had to leave as well, and her hands went to grab the handle of her balcony doors, to pull them shut against the cool night. Pausing, she smiled and let her fingers slip away from the brass knobs. Leaving the balcony doors wide open, Queen Elsa turned and left her chambers, heading towards the reception and feeling that whatever had been feeding her premonitions had fallen away to the fond thoughts she was having about her beloved, and the night they would share after her duties had finally been attended to.

As she walked over the crossing lines cast by the starlight through the plated windows of her castle, Elsa was smiling in memory of her waiting shadow, unaware of the forces that were already in motion against her unbound love, and the crucible prince she held in her heart.


	2. As in Light, Darken Woes

**II**

As In Light, Darken Woes

The reception in the hall had already begun, but Yasha was standing outside, his face dark and hands clenched at his sides. Beside him was a guard of Arendelle, dressed finely in his uniform, but his face equally stern. A heavy air hung between them, displaced from the shrill laughter and polite chatter coming through from the heart of the party. The guard was whispering to Yasha, and each word seemed to foul his expression further, though he was silent and attentive until the man finished his complete report, signaled by the way he was looking at him expectantly.

"What do we do, my king?" the man asked.

Yasha instantly looked at him, tired of hearing the myriad of titles flowing from the mouths of the people of Fria. Had he not been so disturbed by the report, he would have rebuked him, even knowing it was pointless. They called him 'King' and 'Prince' and any other number of names, even knowing how much he resisted it. Instead, he had to concentrate on the information that had soured the mood that was recently so sweet from the lips of his beloved Elsa. It only made the news that much more villainous.

"You are sure that they specifically attacked our people?" he demanded.

"It was a trade caravan of our people only. Even the guards were of Fria. The facts cannot be refuted," the guard said, reflecting the same anger that appeared in Yasha.

"What foul mechanisms are these?" the angry prince seethed, looking into the reception and seeing the laughing faces of the nobles of Arendelle. For some reason, he was infuriated by them.

"My king?" the guard repeated, looking for some kind of direction.

Shaking his head, Yasha suddenly realized that he did not have the time for this, and that even Elsa was appearing anxious at his absence. Against the background of laughing faces, he could easily pick out her troubled features. It made him wince. "Return to your duties. Tell any of our people that they are to be extra cautious when traveling," he ordered, and watched how it did little to comfort the guard. With the growing incidents against the refugees from Fria, Yasha had become more and more irritated with the lack of response from the soldiers of Arendelle, especially as his own countrymen were now within their ranks. He had been resisting the temptation to ask Elsa about it, and why it seemed only his people that were assaulted. Truthfully, he did not want to involve her, but he was unable to figure it out on his own and he felt like he could not dispel the fears of his people.

It was beginning to truly make him angry. "I promise that I will find whoever is responsible," he said strongly, his eyes darkening, "And there will be no sparing them my wrath." The ominous words seemed to appease the old soldier and his eyes burned with loyalty to his king. Yasha saw that unwavering loyalty and winced, then waved him off. "Go now. Attend to your duties." As much as he wanted his people to truly be absorbed into Elsa's kingdom, he was at odds with the world around him once more, and the way it wanted to discriminate against them. His eyes once more fell on the carefree aristocracy of Arendelle, and the way they pranced around while tragedy befell his people. Dark, eroding feelings ate away at him and he did not even notice the guard leave his side as he glowered.

If the world was going to once more wreak havoc on the lives of his people, he would once more see it burn.

Taking a deep, exhuming breath, Yasha straightened his clothes and stepped into the reception, where all eyes shifted and it appeared the whole of attendance had been waiting for him. The reaction stalled him at the doorway. "Ah, it seems our esteemed guest from Fria has finally arrived. I think we may now get started," said an older man in fine clothes, and even finer company. Standing next to the Queen and Princess Anna, this man gestured to Yasha to approach and stand to the side of them as well, in order to witness the proceedings at hand.

"My apologies, Regent Stenson," Yasha said, bowing in penitence and then following his hand to the place that was set aside for him. As he passed, he noticed Anna giving him a small wave under the regal glances of the attendees and he returned her gesture with a slight smile, though he was then disturbed to find that Kristoff was not at her side. For some reason, that fact stuck out strongly in his mind as he gave the Regent his full attention.

Regent Stenson was a stately man. His hair was streaked with white and his eyes were wise with age. He was not as plump as many of the older nobles, but he was certainly well-attended in his duties to the kingdom and he commanded the presence of the entire room, an impressive fact considering that Elsa stood next to him. "Ladies and gentlemen of the court, guests, and of course, our beloved queen and princess, I'm both ashamed and delighted in calling you here tonight, and on such short notice. Ashamed that my reasons are so selfish as to bring you all here, but delighted that they could still do so," he bellowed, then slowly gestured to a young man before him, who was dressed in the uniform of the Royal Guard, but brighter and commanding far more authority. "My son, Johann, has most recently been appointed as captain of the Guard, the youngest to do so in recent memory. While it may be self-regarding of me to brandish the court's attention on such an accomplishment, I hope you will help me celebrate this wonderful achievement, and this addition to the ranks of officers that see to it that Arendelle remains a safe and beautiful place for many years to come."

As soon as his words fell away, the reception erupted into applause. As she clapped, Elsa found it strange that the Regent would arrange such grandeur around the appointment, as he had always been an understated and simple man. Yet nowhere was his influence on the other nobles of Arendelle so apparent in that roaring applause that filled the hall, brought on by a single gesture of this venerable man. His hands raised, the Regent then quieted everyone and smiled. "Now, my very young son has decided that he wishes to address the court, as well as our young queen. It appears he has had his eye on her for quite a long time, you see. Imagine, a son of mine being so presumptuous!" he continued, which drew a wave of laughter from the crowd and an embarrassed smile on Johann's face.

"Father, please," he whined, then gave Elsa a guilty look. The admission made her smile just as meekly and she tucked her chin down in practiced form.

"Well, as I'm certainly not one to stand in the way of a young heart, I'll give your gracious attention over to this new captain of the Guard," Regent Stenson continued, then bowed away to let Johann take the floor.

Young, tall and strong, Johann was a younger image of the Regent, with his uniform neatly pressed and his ceremonial sword hanging at his side. He was handsome and vibrant, with neatly trimmed brown hair and the piercing green eyes of someone who knew what he wanted, and how to get it. The young man took a moment to look around the hall, smiling widely and continuing to bow gracious to their dying applause. With a single glance at Elsa, he then looked back out to the crowd. "Friends, noblemen, I stand before you a newly-appointed captain of Arendelle's honorable Guard, eager to serve and eager to protect. Yes, I am young, but I have earned the respect of my fellow soldiers, and look to my youth not as a hindrance, but as an opportunity to serve Arendelle for many, many years," he called, capturing the will of the onlookers and appearing to enjoy every moment of the attention. "My father is correct. I love the Queen," he said, gesturing to Elsa, but not even looking back to notice her reaction, "As I love Arendelle. And I will protect the Queen, as I will protect Arendelle. With my heart and with my life."

The passionate words were wooing the crowd and Johann finally turned back to Elsa, who was blushing and trying to swallow everything he claimed. Her reaction seemed to appease him, and he slowly stepped towards her, finally speaking to her more than the world around. "Queen Elsa, Princess Anna, I have sworn to you with my life, my heart and my honor. My sword is yours to command. Point to any horizon, and let me be there for you," he continued, stepping slowly to Elsa and finally dropping to one knee before her, actions that continued to make her fidget. Taking her hand, he gazed deeply at her with his green eyes and spoke in soft, powerful tones. "Pick any mountain, and above it, I will raise your flag." To finish off the atmosphere, Johann placed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, and it caused the whispers of the crowd to thunder through the room. The young queen and her valiant captain made for an alluring story, especially as this young man was the son of the Regent, steward of the kingdom and ancient friend of the late King. Elsa was taken for a moment by his charisma and the tone he commanded in the court. She was also not above the symmetry of the tale, and why now the Regent's actions seemed rationale.

The only thing that seemed to break her of this spell was the passing moment when she caught his expression and the temperament of his intentions. Oddly, she had felt that even as he paraded around, calling out his desires to obey her every whim, he never really appeared to be looking at her. Even now, as he knelt and made the pledges of his very heart for her, his eyes were not on her at all.

To her surprise, she could have sworn that he had been looking towards Yasha.

As the reception broke apart into a sea of chatting nobility, Elsa had been instantly captured by the newly-appointed captain. The crowd flowed around them like the very will of the kingdom itself, with whispers and glances, and they had been talking at the center of the room for an eternity.

At least, that is what it felt like for Yasha. As was common for most of these parties, he stood alone, avoided by most of the others in the court, whether out of fear or embarrassment, he never knew. A man's past was often with him no matter where he might go, and his was often at the lips of every person in the royal court. That usually did not bother him, but seeing Elsa interviewing this bold princeling was grinding away his usually cool demeanor, especially as the crowd around him whispered their approvals and their hails, and he stood there like a lightning rod among storm clouds, giving of an oppressive aura and driving people even further away than usual.

That was until Anna wandered up next to him, fearlessly cutting through his mood and casually clutching her hands behind her back in defiance of his fiery temper. Their association sent new waves of the usual banter through the people around them, as Anna and Yasha had quite the storied past. "Wow, you look like you just found a badger in your pants," she remarked, leaning to the side to try and pry his attention away from the scene. Yasha was fuming and glaring forward with eyes very much like the ones she had known before, though she was glad this was not going to end up as a flurry of ice and fire.

At least, she hoped not.

"She is laughing. She is actually laughing with him," he grumbled, stiffly crossing his arms in a vain effort to control his mood. Seeing Elsa so entertained was maddening, more than he ever expected. The air around him seemed sweltering and heavy and he did not even acknowledge Anna's arrival at his side beyond the ranting that seemed aptly directed to her.

She looked from him and to her sister, watching her go through the steps. A smirk crossed her lips. This was not something new for her and the truth behind Elsa's polite interaction with the young captain made her feel like teasing her brooding partner a bit. "Yep, I haven't seen Elsa laugh like that in a while. Makes you wonder what they're talking about, huh?" she remarked.

"She never laughs like that with me. Am I not amusing or witty? Is he that much funnier than I?" Yasha continued, his face twisted and his hand cutting through the air in agitated gestures.

Anna glanced at him slowly. Just the idea of him joking around lightheartedly made her nearly choke on her own laughter, as Yasha was notoriously serious about most things and his own lack of perception of that proving the point. "You?" she said, then slowly looked back with an evasive look on her face. "Oh sure, you're a barrel of laughs."

Yasha scoffed, becoming more animate than usual as he vented his anger. This aggravating feeling was eating away at him, taking away his usual focus. It had only been moments since he had held her in his arms and shared a soft kiss, yet he suddenly felt like she was a million miles away and being carried further away with every passing moment. "They might as well be singing and dancing around the walls of the castle," he said as he glowered.

Anna smirked at him, glad that he had no intimate knowledge of her little tryst with the devious Prince of the Southern isles. "Now you're overreacting," she remarked sheepishly.

By now, all of Yasha's comments had melted down into angry murmuring and he did not even seem to recognize that she was there. For her part, she continued to watch Elsa courted by this handsome officer, her face showing the slightest bit of amusement by the effect it had on the usually stoic Yasha.

Her comments came rolling over the top of his grumbling.

"She's totally faking it. "

"He is kind of cute, though."

"Maybe it's the uniform."

"Still, she's totally faking it."

"At least, I think she's faking it."

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Anna's attention had come back to Yasha, and she stabbed her hand on her hip, watching him continue to brood. At first, it had been amusing to watch him squirm, especially as she knew this young rooster had no chance at really reaching Elsa's heart, something that Yasha himself did not seem to recognize. But as he continued to growl and murmur, she began to feel sorry for him, seeing how much he agonized over something so shallow. Inwardly, she mused that he sometimes seemed so romantic and intuitive in his courtship of Elsa, yet in other arenas he acted like a lovestruck adolescent, wildly emotional and prone to fretting over the most meaningless things. She was not sure if that was cute, or sad.

As he kept grumbling, she was also a miffed that he was practically ignoring her.

"You just lit the Duchess of Pancake's hair on fire, you know," she informed him.

The remark finally made him break from his trance and it caused him look around for the said inferno or noblewoman, something that made her smirk even more for his gullibility. As he did not see any smoke or fire, nor could he remember ever meeting a Duchess of Pancake, he suddenly realized the childish nature of the prank and slowly looked to the Princess at his side. A smirk overtook him and he showed that he was annoyed that she would use his mood to have a bit of fun at his expense.

"You are not being helpful, Anna," he pointed out.

"And you're definitely jealous," she countered, watching the word make him scoff incredulously.

His reaction made her all the more entitled to her assessment. "Look, I've seen Elsa do this routine a hundred times, with all sorts of princes and dolphins and who knows what else," she explained, drawing his attention to Elsa and suddenly beginning to mimic everything she did, even down to the words she was speaking and the position of her hands. She made a very convincing Elsa.

"She flicks out her hand, talking about how much she's heard about them. '_Oh, I've heard about this. You say it was you?_' She laughs a little, covering her mouth politely with her hand. '_You don't say?_' She laughs a little more, though never can quite hide the rolling of her eyes when they continue to talk about themselves. '_How impressive!_' She laughs, and hides, and rolls. But she's totally faking it, and probably wondering where I am to come drag her away from this guy."

Yasha was incredibly impressed. Anna mirrored Elsa's every move and it gave credibility to her claims. He still had trouble dealing with the genuine look of amusement on the Queen's face, but his heart was willing to trust in Anna, regardless of how enchanted Elsa appeared to be. "And you know all of this because...?" he asked.

"Because I'm her sister. I know everything about her," Anna replied as she beamed brightly, nodding firmly as she crossed her arms over her chest. It was amazing that she had to keep reminding him, but she felt even better about herself when she thought at how not even Elsa's beloved Prince Yasha had such insights on her.

When it came to Elsa, she was the subject matter expert.

Being so proud, she began to wander into the ramblings of her mind, laughing a bit sheepishly as she shrugged. "These days, anyway. That magic thing? Totally took me by surprise. Well, I knew about it when I was a kid, but you know how that magic stuff goes. I mean, of course you do. Who else would know better than you? Elsa, I guess. Wow, she's really going all out with this one."

Yasha sighed heavily, rubbing his tired eyes and feeling his head and heart throb. It was comforting to know that Anna was on his side and that her assessment seemed infallible, but even her arguments had trouble dispelling the burning feeling in his chest and the way it ravaged his mood. "All I see is her laughing," he admitted.

Anna sighed and finally decided to stop having fun at his expense. Seeing him so despondent was starting to make her feel guilty. "Look, standing here and glaring at that Johnny guy isn't going to make anything better. If it's Elsa you want, you're looking at the wrong person," she advised, patting him on the shoulder softly. The troubled Prince looked at her, trying to believe in her and let her continue to dispel his fears. Once more, he was reminded at how Anna was far wiser than she let on to the world and that he felt privileged to have her as a confidant, something that seemed almost comical considering how their relationship started. Even as he spoke to her in the wake of Elsa's performance, he was feeling better, and he was glad that even though not many spoke to him within the walls of the castle, the ones that did were genuine and sincere.

He was glad that Anna was his friend.

Seeing that he was feeling better, Anna patted him a few more times, feeling just as satisfied that the one that had earned the heart of her sister was this man, regardless of how inexperienced he was when it came to some of the workings of love. "I've seen Elsa act like that a hundred times, but the only time I've actually seen her enjoying herself is when she's with you. So try not to get all gloomy again," she continued, then regained a bit of her humor as she elbowed him playfully. "And don't even consider the whole kidnapping thing again. You'd be surprised how often that actually doesn't work."

The remark made Yasha return her smirk, but let the tension bleed from him as he laughed softly at her attempts to cheer him up. There were very few that could get him to laugh, but Anna was the most proficient at it. Once more, he was reminded at how fond he was of her. "I will keep the kidnapping option as a last resort," he remarked, seeing how it amused her as well.

After a moment, he slowly looked back to the smile Elsa wore, and let out a slow breath. It was still bothering him, but her counsel had helped as it often did. Only lingering doubts still tore at him from the inside. "You are sure that I have nothing to fear?" he asked her with a sigh.

Anna smiled as she watched his fear, ironically happy that it was his love for her sister that burned through the many masks he wore. If his love for Elsa forced him to be honest, she could endure seeing him suffer through it. "Why do you ask me questions of which you already know the answer?" she replied in an accent similar to his, repeating one of his own of his favorite responses.

Yasha looked to her with a defeated chuckle. As much as he cherished his romantic love with Elsa, he equally cherished this powerful connection with Anna, so much so that he feared ever to lose it. Idly, he remembered that he actually had two very good reasons to fight for his place in Arendelle. "Thank you, Anna," he said thoughtfully and it made a slight blush go over her face.

Sometimes, she was also reminded at how much she enjoyed her strange bond with this friend, kidnapper and king. "Don't mention it," she said, happy that in spite of Kristoff being denied an invitation to this reception, she was able to stand with at least one person who she could relax with. It made the night bearable. "But don't get all cozy just because you think you've reeled her in. If you want to really claim my sister's heart, you need to be prepared to work for it. A lot, from the looks of it," she warned, though she knew that he already knew this and that he was the last person she had to lecture about the resolve needed for being in Elsa's heart.

Yasha slowly looked from her and back to Elsa. She was still entertaining Johann and the crowd continued to flow around them. It was Anna's words and Anna's presence that empowered him, and made him break the fears that had strangled him. With only Elsa in his eyes, he took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the rest of the world fade away, until it was only her he could see.

"I intend to," he proclaimed strongly.

The resolve in his voice made her nod and stand at his side, completely dedicated in supporting the both of them until they finally found the love they deserved. "Good," she said.

As Yasha gazed to Elsa and Johann with the resolution renewed in his eyes, the situation did not seem so dire, yet he continued to fight the burning in his chest. These feelings were almost entirely new to him, as he had never really been in love before Elsa, at least in the way that could be understood by his human heart. His mind had eased considerable, enough to make a sudden realization furrow his brow and he slowly looked back to his cheery companion. "A badger in my pants?" he repeated, going all the way back to the very first thing she had said to him.

Anna had nearly forgotten about it, but his delayed reaction made her giggle and nod at him, unable to hide the full width of her grin. "Yeah, I heard Kristoff say it. Isn't it hilarious?" she cheered. Just the way it hung between them sweetened the air and they both shared a moment of laughing together among the practiced recitals of the crowd around them.


	3. Deny Thy Father

**III**

Deny Thy Father

"_If Anna doesn't get here soon, I'm going to go crazy," _thought Elsa as she continued to listen to Johann talk about all manner of things, though she was beginning to see the pattern as most of what he talked about was himself. Her face was getting sore all of the smiling and she could barely resist the urge to excuse herself from the eager young captain, though she had yet to find an adequate reason. She thought on how he really was like his father in his love of talk and that if she let him continue, he would go on for hours with little regard for her suffering. He was particularly intent on keeping her attention on him, and she was not oblivious to the way that the rest of the crowd was focused on their exchange.

Idly, she wondered if they would notice if she turned his tongue into a block of ice.

"So I subdued the brute with a quick show of the blade, you see, and he quickly lost interest in…" Johann boasted, seeing how she hung on his every word and offered him nothing but the slightest of responses as proof that he was winning her over. He would have gone on for hours more, had they not been interrupted when a guard briskly approached them, bowing to the Queen before addressing the captain with a salute.

Johann appeared annoyed, but hid it behind an roguish smile. "Ah, forgive me, Your Highness. A captain's work is never done."

"No no, take your time. I'll be right here when you're done," Elsa replied, gesturing her approval of the interruption. As Johann leaned over and listened to the guard whispering to him, Elsa rolled her eyes and stretched her jaw, glad to have a moment to break the mask on her face and look around for her wayward sister. She found her standing next to Yasha, both of them watching her in her cage. While Yasha wore a brooding expression, Anna had noticed her break and gave her a devious little wave, the smile on her face showing just how entertained she was by it. It was reminiscent of the time when Elsa had pawned Anna off onto the wily Duke of Weselton, and she glared at her sister and this delayed measure of revenge she was getting.

She was going to get her back for this.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," Johann suddenly said, putting a thin smile back on Elsa's face as she looked back to him.

"No, it's all right. I was just waiting to hear some more of your fascinating stories," she replied as she stiffened back up, her eyes betraying how hard it was to say that without choking.

Johann did not seem to notice. "Another time, perhaps. I was just informed that my father…the Regent would like to speak with you," he said, gesturing out to the balcony, where a lone figure was waiting under the starlight.

While Elsa was instantly relieved to be given a way out, the invitation struck her coldly and she looked out to the waiting figure, her heart beating a bit faster with the same dread she had felt before. Normally, he would have simply sought her out in the crowd and bantered with her among the other nobles of the kingdom. To want to see her alone meant he had something on his mind. Strangely, she looked over to Anna and Yasha, as if they could somehow disperse the anxiety she felt.

"Your Highness?" Johann repeated, not failing to notice where her eyes had gone.

Elsa snapped out of her glance and looked back to him, blushing slightly in embarrassment. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Johann," she said politely, then gracefully passed by him to go out onto the balcony and meet the waiting Regent with a respectful, if not drawn gaze.

"Regent," she said softly as she approached him, smiling a far more genuine smile than before and bowing to him respectfully.

The older man turned as she approached and gave her a wide smile, though there was a scolding tone to his voice as he reproached her somewhat playfully. "A queen bows to no one in her own castle. I thought I taught you that a long time ago."

Elsa flushed a bit, but did not lose her smile. "You did, but I can't ignore all of the others things you taught me as well. _Always respect those that have earned it_," she replied.

The Regent accepted her response with a smile and nodded his approval. "Well met," he said, then placed his strong hands on her shoulders as he looked her over, appearing much like a proud father enamored with the grace of his beautiful daughter. "You're looking well, Elsa. But I sense you're troubled. Is there something wrong?" he asked.

In spite of her premonitions, the feel of his hands relaxed her and she shook her head, though her voice betrayed some of the underlying anxiety that remained. "No, nothing _wrong_ exactly. Just..." she started, then saw the warm look on his face and decided to dismiss all of the unseen fears residing in her heart.

"It's nothing. I guess I'm tired, is all."

"Perhaps you're not getting enough sleep at night? Proper rest is very important. The queen cannot afford to stay up all night playing with shadows, can she?" he warned, his eyes losing a bit of their warmth to reveal an underlying charge underneath. It was obvious that he was referring to the rumors of her midnight rendezvous with the displaced Prince of Fria and that he did not approve of them at all.

Elsa's face burned brightly and her eyes fell. She never imagined him to come at her outright about the things she tried so hard to conceal, yet as he did not breach the subject directly, she felt hurried to try and appease him. "You're right. I'll try and take your advice to heart and get a proper night's sleep," she said timidly, not even looking up at him.

The Regent continued to glare at her sternly. "Yes, see that you do," he simply said, though the words were heavier than she expected.

For the longest time, Elsa continued to avoid his eyes and suffer in the silence that consumed them. In all honesty, his opinion of her mattered so much that she felt ashamed to have him reproach her, even as his words had been so subtle and seemingly benign. He was her teacher, her guardian and, in some ways, her father. While he could never replace the late King and he was never as gentle with her as her real father, he had always shown her real affection and genuine love, even in light of her cursed powers. The fact that he never held it against her had always drawn her towards him, even though he had been strict in teaching how to be the ruler of her kingdom.

The silence that lingered between them now was deafening, and she was eager to try and dispel it. "So, your son is a captain of the Guard now. That must be very exciting for you," she offered, finally raising her eyes in an attempt to lighten to mood.

The change of subject seemed to please him and he looked beyond her to the subject of their discussion. "Oh yes. Johann is the finest man in Arendelle. Trained by the finest of our soldiers. Well-versed in music and the arts. A warrior and poet," he beamed brightly, then gave her a sideward glance. "You'd do well to notice such things, I think."

Elsa tried to deflect the remark and straightened her back, looking to the young captain as well. "I did notice how charming and pleasant he was a moment ago. He certainly inherited your ability to speak, Regent," she said, biting her tongue slightly.

He was still looking at her and his warmth had completely bled away. Courtesy was no longer enough to keep him affable, and he decided to press forward with his agenda. "Perhaps that vaunted ability to speak will help me on the real reason I asked you out here, Elsa," he said, utterly breaking the mood she was trying to build.

"The real reason?" she repeated, looking back to him with the dread once more growing inside.

He nodded. "It's about this man you've brought back from Fria," he said gravely.

Elsa winced. "You mean..." she began, nearly speaking his name as affectionately as was standard, though realizing that this was not the time to be thinking of him as her suitor, especially as she felt the gravity of the Regent's gaze upon her. "Prince Yasha?" she finished, using his official title in a bid to authorize his presence.

The Regent smirked lightly at her hesitation and the way she quickly changed to present him like a bashful daughter to her disapproving father. "Yes, that one," he said, then looked out over the kingdom for a moment, a sigh escaping his pursed lips. "You were unusually bold to invite him and his people to come to Arendelle without consulting any of your advisors."

The remark made her frown and she knew that when he generally referred to her advisors, he really meant only one in particular – him. But that did not lessen the passion in which she defended her decision, or the prince in question. "They lost their home to the volcano. I couldn't just leave them out there, especially when it was my magic that froze over their kingdom," she explained, though the part about her magic was somewhat of a lie. In truth, it had been the enigmatic Lind that had turned Fria into a sealed, frozen tundra, but the only others that knew about it were Yasha and Anna, the two she held closest in her heart. She was adamant about keeping it that way until she knew more about the riddle that was Lind. "Regent, Arendelle has plenty of room for them, and they're already bringing in more trade than we've seen in years. Our own people gain more from their presence than without it. I stand by my decision to ask them to join us."

"The benefit of their artisans is not in doubt," he replied, knowing everything she said was true. The goods produced by the skilled craftsmen of Fria had made Arendelle even more prosperous, as well as even more secure as the quality of their weapons were unmatched. He had no issues with the benefits of their forges. His concern was far more personal and far more intimate to her. "I'm more concerned about this criminal you've allowed to stay in the castle."

A shaky breath slipped from her lips and Elsa had suspected all along that this was why he wanted to speak with her privately. This had always been about her and her prince. "Yasha did what he did for the good of his people. And I pardoned him of all of his crimes," she said, defiant against the way he regarded him.

"A piece of paper cannot wipe clean the sins of a man, or give you adequate cause to map what lies in his heart. He's dangerous, even without these powers of his," he said dismissively. If there was one thing that lessened his anxiety over the young man, it was that he had lost these magical powers to wield fire, for he knew that Elsa's powers were tempered by her timid nature, while his fierce resolve and tenacity would have made the magical prince's presence in Arendelle intolerable. There would have been no way to be sure that he would not turn those powers onto anyone he deemed fit. There would have been no way to control him.

Yet, he knew even without them the young man was far too dangerous to leave unchecked. His apparent sway over both the Queen and Princess were testaments to that.

"He's a good person, honorable and kind. You just haven't gotten to know him," she said strongly, wishing more than anything he would see Yasha as the person she had come to adore.

The Regent bristled at the look in her eyes as she thought of him. He did not like the lofty tone in her voice. "Princess Anna says the same things," he remarked, apparently not impressed by that fact. "I find it troubling that both of Adgar's daughters have such warm feelings towards a man who broke into this castle, kidnapped the Princess at knifepoint and then tried to murder you. Is this the kind of man you should be allowing to sleep within our walls? Is this the type of man you want around your people?"

Elsa's hands were clenched at her sides, mostly because she did not like it when people spoke badly about Yasha, even when that person was the Regent. It was hard enough to try and help him to fit in among the other nobility of the kingdom without the unfair chatter spreading around like wildfire. Sometimes, she felt like it was only her and Anna that defended him against the winds of gossip. "That's not who he really is," she appealed, trying to smother her fiery tone. "At first, I thought the same things. After he kidnapped Anna, I was so angry that I almost did something terrible to him. But then I had enough time to see the person he is underneath. Regent, he sacrificed everything for his people; his freedom, his powers, even his life. How isn't that proof of the man he really is?"

The Regent knit his hands in front of him, leaning back against the railing. His eyes were not kind. "Is this why you think you've fallen in love with him?" he asked without recourse.

The blunt question hit Elsa like a slap to the face, and she was unable to answer in the same straightforward manner. The word _think_ was particularly cruel to her. "I..." she stuttered, feeling her heart twist painfully in her chest.

Her reaction was all he needed and the Regent sighed, shrugging his shoulders and casting a sentencing glare on her. "Elsa, I swore to your father that I would always look after you and your sister, and try to guide you when I think you're making mistakes. It's bad enough that Anna has some man and his reindeer ringing wedding bells in her ears, but you are the Queen. The world is a different place for you," he counseled, watching the way it tore away at the sparkles in her eyes and made her mouth pull back in that historic grimace of fear and doubt.

"You have to do what's right for Arendelle and this supposed prince is not what's right for Arendelle, or for you. He's the mistake that I'm trying to help you to avoid."

"That's..." she once more tried, though again her voice failed. Her head shaking, she knew everything he said was wrong, even if it was the way it was _supposed_ to be. Long ago, she had been instructed that sometimes a queen had to do what was good for the sake of her kingdom, regardless of the beating of her heart. It had been Regent Stenson that taught her then as well and a small part of her heart had accepted that one day she might have to marry someone not for love, but for the good of Arendelle. At the time, it had seemed a sad and distant reality, but now she had found someone that she loved, regardless of his past or the unfavorable whispers of him blowing around the castle.

Despite the wishes and words of the Regent, if giving up Yasha was a queen's duty to her kingdom, she was not sure she could be the queen he expected her to be.

"You need to do your duty to your kingdom. You're certainly old enough to be thinking of your future, of Arendelle's future, but there are far better suitors than a prince with no realm. Some will even look beyond anything that's been done to you, and marry you in spite of the curse. It's what your father and I always wanted," the Regent continued, soothingly trying to assuage her fears and point her in the right direction.

Elsa let out a choking gasp. _Anything that's been done to you. _The Regent's woven comments made a pit open up in her stomach. The secret moments she had spent with Yasha were something she cherished, and she had never really been able to describe them with mere words. To hear him subtly refer to them as something that had somehow befouled her made her body shiver and her hands grasp at her arms in a vain attempt to control it. For something so true, she had no idea why his attack on her love for Yasha was so painful, or why it made the air around her start to chill. Even in the relative warmth of the summer evening, ice fluttered in and out of existence around her and she closed in on herself, trying to wade through the truth of her feelings and the advice of her most trusted mentor.

Regent Stenson felt the cold air around them and watched his breath start to make clouds at his lips. Unlike others, he did not recoil at the effects of her magic, but rather accepted it as part of her world, and his. "Take my advice to heart, Elsa. I only care for what's best for you and for Arendelle," he said solemnly, stepping past her with a strangely satisfied look on his face and patting her on the shoulder as he went to return to the reception.

"I know you'll do the right thing."

* * *

Standing alone on the balcony and facing away from the reception, Elsa had spent a great deal of time thinking about what the Regent had said to her. It was chilling how something she knew was wrong could linger in her mind and her heart, making its mere presence the justification for its persistence. Doubts were swallowing her as she asked herself why she did not just dismiss his concerns and embrace the feelings of love. Those doubts began to spread, making her come back to the Regent's cold words, and how they cut right through her.

_Is that why you think you've fallen in love with him?_

Suddenly, she began to question whether she had actually fallen in love with Yasha, or simply dreamt she had.

"Are you all right?" a voice said from behind her, and she was startled as she turned back to find Yasha standing at the doorway.

"Yasha?" she asked, her voice choked a bit. He was both the first and last person she wanted to see right now and she could already see that he noticed the tears that had been terrorizing her eyes. Quickly, she turned back to the night and ran her hands up and down her arms, embracing the villainous urge she had to avoid him. "I want to be alone right now," she said quietly.

Yasha watched her quietly, standing steadfast against the lies and tears she wore. "I do not have to be your sister to know that the Regent upset you, or to know when to deny your wishes for solitude," he replied, walking out onto the balcony towards her, but giving her some space. His breath was coming out in puffs of vapor and his skin was chilled by the cold in the air.

Elsa slowly wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffled. "It's nothing," she whispered, trying to spare him the pain she was feeling because of their forbidden love.

"A powerful nothing," he replied, persisting beyond her muddled expectations of him.

The typical Yasha response made a small sigh of relief take some of the tension away, but the underlying tragedy still remained and she stubbornly tried to deny him. Secretly, she was happy that he did not go, even if she would not admit it. "The Regent doesn't think I should see you anymore," she suddenly said, her voice sad and her shoulders hanging low. "He thinks I need to focus on doing what's right for Arendelle, and find an appropriate suitor."

The news made Yasha's eyes narrow and he inherited some of her tension. Knowing the kind of influence the Regent had on her, he did not like that the man was now openly against their secret courtship. It was going to make things very difficult on them. Yet he remembered Anna's advice, and remembered to keep looking where it mattered most. "What do you think?" he asked, his eyes firmly on her.

She shook her head, her red lips drawn back in a painful grimace and her voice breaking under the weight of her admission. "I don't know," she said, afraid that her uncertainty might cause him to scorn her.

That was something she could not bear again.

Hearing her waver did not surprise him, though through his reflections cast with the help of her sister, he no longer wasted an effort in questioning their connection. He had spent the entire night trying to defeat his own doubts and fears. He was not about to lose to hers.

"What do you know in your heart?" he asked softly.

His question made her let out a pathetic whimper, though it was soon tempered by a forlorn smile. She turned to him, finding strength in his eyes. "That I love you, and that I don't want to stop," she admitted, finding that the admission did not make her squirm or retreat, but feel comforted by it. While she imagined that she looked terrible with the tears in her eyes, she had to see him, and even though she felt empowered by the resolution in his eyes, the words of the Regent kept beating through her mind and made her waver once more.

"But the Regent..."

"Is a man. Nothing more," he interrupted, shaking his head at her investment in the total authority this man had over her, "He could not command your heart any more than he could mine." His persuasions were powerful, though she continued to waver and look to him for support. Seeing her so vulnerable and scared made his own resolve strengthen and he stepped closer to her, though he still could not forget that they were undoubtedly the subject of everyone's attention in the reception. Even that would not deter him from appealing to her. "And my heart tells me that I will not yield in this, Elsa, no matter who wishes otherwise."

The calling of his heart made her feel his convictions and she suddenly felt as if she could resist the voices around her and simply follow her own heart. Also knowing that the entire hall was watching them, she resisted the urge to go to him and feel the safety she would undoubtedly feel. Once more, the cruel reality of their love was hard to swallow. "It won't be easy. The Regent can be stubborn, and very demanding," she warned, still harboring her doubts.

Yasha let a confident smile cross his face. "I am experienced in performing difficult tasks in order to get what I want," he assured her.

The response made her laugh bitterly. She was probably the only person in the world who could truly appreciate his response and was equally the only person who could feel such warmth from it. "I guess you are," she agreed, then defiantly stepped even closer to him, now well beyond the bounds of social safety they had been careful to respect. They were so cautious in keeping up a front around others and trying to hide their wonderful thing in shadows. She knew how much it troubled him, though she was usually good at hiding her own discontent.

Feeling her heart in shambles, she did not care for appearances at the moment, as long as it allowed her be close with him when she needed him most.

"Elsa..." he said in a cautionary tone, looking down at her and feeling his back alight with the eyes of an entire kingdom.

"Let me be here," she whispered, putting her head forward against his chest but forcing her hands to remained chained at her lap out of fear that would not be able to stop herself from wrapping them around him.

"Just for a moment."

Letting out a long sigh, he straightened his back and let her do as she pleased, fighting every instinct he had in order to preserve her image and honor to the court. Had common expectation allowed it, he would have put his arms around her and denied anything that sought to harm her. In this bizarre world of acceptance and approval, he found he was totally out of his element and struggling just to stay true to his heart. Letting out a desperate sigh, he looked up to the sky full of stars. Though his confidence burned out of the things he was willing to do to love her, he was often far weaker against the unseen machinations of the world around him that stayed his hands when he needed to use them most.

Sometimes, he utterly hated the things he could _not_ do for love.


	4. Where Two Fires Meet

**IV**

Where Two Fires Meet

In a dark alley behind the tavern, a man with blood streaming from his nose rocked back into the stone wall, his breathing heavy and his misty eyes full of fear. Before him stood a figure in a black robes and a black hood, shadowed from the lighted street behind him and glaring harshly from the darkness. It was like something straight out of a story, with this monster swooping out of the hazy memories of his time in the tavern, though this story did not bode to end well in the eyes of the man, for there seemed no amount of mercy in the beast and it loomed over him like an angel of death, ready to rule its judgment upon him.

By all measure, this dark figure was a monster, and the man stood before it terrified.

His knees shaking and his face desperate, the man hacked and ran the back of his hand across his mouth, making the blood smear over his face. The booze and adrenaline were soaking his body with sweat, and the sickening smell of his own blood was making him gag. This was not the way he envisioned his evening going when he pompously walked into the tavern, when he had been in far higher spirits and felt the heavy jungle of coins in his purse.

"I already told you I don't know anything!" he cried, his feet shuffling as he tried to steady his shaky balance.

"That is apparent," the hooded figure replied, "However, you were very eager to gloat about the quality of your merchandise. Where is that certainty now, I wonder?" From underneath the figure's cloak, a dagger was produced, made of very fine quality and marked with the crest of the kingdom of Fria. The man panicked with he saw the weapon, afraid it was going to be the end of him, but the figure suddenly tossed it to the ground between them, his shrouded eyes still glaring from underneath the hood. "Truthfully, I am far more interested in the quantity you claimed to have. Where did you come across such a large amount of these goods?"

The man licked his lips, tasting the metallic foulness of his own blood. As terrified as he was of this hooded man, the information he was demanding was far more dangerous to let spill out into the night. "I don't know what you're talking about," he wheezed.

The figure exhaled harshly under the robes. It was obvious he was not amused by the evasion. "For many months, the caravans that carry these goods have been attacked. The assailants come and go with the mists, taking all they come across with ruthless efficiency. I want to know who they are and why they attack the merchants of Fria," he demanded.

The bloody merchant had known getting involved was going to be trouble, but he had expected to be hassled by the Arendelle guards, not being pummeled in the dark by some shaded assailant. Inwardly, he was wondering if the money was worth the trouble. "Look, I don't know anything about that. I get the stuff from a guy who knows a guy. I just sell it, okay? I'm an honest merchant," he pleaded, raising his hand out to try and assuage the figure's wrath.

"Honesty can be bought with coin," the figure replied, then took a step towards him, "or with blood."

Feeling backed up against the wall again, the man glanced down at the dagger on the ground, its finely crafted body alluring to him and his current, desperate plight . He was not a man that went around looking for fights, but the fear he felt caused him to suddenly reach down and grab it, tearing the blade from the sheath and pointing the weapon at the figure, feeling the intoxicating power that it gave him. His hands were shaking and his eyes were filled with fear.

The dark figure stopped and said nothing.

"Stay away! If you come any closer, I'll kill you!" the merchant roared.

The figure lingered only a moment, then stepped towards him again. Feeling his panic overwhelm his sense of reason, the merchant suddenly thrust at the figure with the dagger, hopeful the beautiful blade would vanquish the demon and save him from this night. The sloppy thrust was countered when he felt a strong hand clamp down on his wrist and a painful wrenching on his arm. The man soon saw the world whirl around him and felt the hard ground at his back, which made him grunt loudly and lose his breath from his twisted lips. Disoriented, he could not even try and get back up before he felt a heavy weight on his chest and heard the terrifying chime of metal next to his head. The dagger was stabbed into the ground an inch away from his ear and the beautiful blade reflected his petrified eyes as he looked up at the figure as he knelt over him, a knee on in his chest and his hands pinned uselessly at his sides.

Being this much closer, he could now see the pale gray reflection of the figure's eyes, and the terrible look on his face under the hood.

"I have no patience for games. Tell me about the one you get the weapons from," the figure demanded, his hand holding the dagger tightly into the ground. "Do not force me to rephrase the question." Suddenly, his ear next to the dagger began to sear with heat and the merchant yelped, looking to the side and seeing the blade begin to glow, as if it were being forged in a blacksmith's kiln. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but the way his ear and cheek began to flare with pain made him struggle, despite the fact the hooded figure had pinned him completely.

"I don't know any names! They contact me, okay? I take drops in the woods and never meet with them. I just leave the money and take the stuff, I swear!" he cried, trying to turn his face from the searing dagger and looking for some measure of mercy in the hooded figure's eyes.

There was little to be found, but the figure was silent for a moment, brooding under his hood. Soon, his eyes narrowed. "Have you ever experienced what it feels like to be burned alive?" he asked darkly, and the dagger began to glow brighter.

The man struggled again, finding the monster to be more terrifying than the consequences of talking about what he was not supposed to talk about. The pain from the searing dagger was more than he could bear and he suddenly became far more accommodating, if only because holding out for the sake of those filthy animals seemed like a stupid, and very dangerous thing to do. "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! Just get that thing away from me!" he cried, his eyes still reflecting the glowing blade of the dagger next to his head. The figure seemed appeased and slowly withdrew the dagger from the ground next to his head, relieving the merchant of the heat and letting him catch his breath.

Still held tightly in his hand, the dagger continued to glow brightly, as did the intense look in the hooded figure's eyes.

"Tell me."

"Look, from what I hear, these guys play real rough. If they find out I'm telling you this, I might end up with a knife in my back. But seeing as I've no choice, I'll tell you the only thing I know about them," the merchant wheezed, licking his lips once more and hoping this would assuage the demon's wrath.

"Kobold."

"Kobold?" the figure repeated, completely lost on its meaning.

The merchant nodded nervously. "That's what they call themselves. The only thing I've heard is that they're not from around here, and that they sort of wander around, causing trouble all over the countryside. A bad lot, if you as me," he explained, mainly going off of what he had heard as rumors in the taverns.

The figure digested that for a moment, then turned his gaze back down on him. "Why are they attacking the caravans from Arendelle?" he demanded.

"I don't know! They've never hit anything so big before, never anything that had guards from the castle. Maybe because their goods are worth so much," he cried.

In a moment of consideration, he figure appeared both disturbed and angered by the information, and he sat back a bit to take it all in. The merchant took that as a sign that he might get out of this dark alley in once piece. "That's all I know, I swear! Look, I'll never do business with them again. Just let me go!"

The figure saw the terror in his eyes and the recognition that there was nothing else to be gained by interrogating him further. Slowly standing and removing his knee from his chest, he took a step to the side and waved the dagger towards the lighted street beyond, showing that even demons had their compassionate sides. "Go then," he said and watched the merchant scramble to his feet and flee from the alleyway. In the end, he had gotten very little from the man and he resigned himself that he would not be able to use him to get to this Kobold, yet it was more than he had learned in the months before, even if it was nothing more than a name. Finding any information, even this far from Arendelle, was harder than he expected, and he was feeling exhausted from the effort.

He was not fond of playing the demon, but he had little other choice if he was to find out who was attacking the people of Fria.

Slowly, he looked to the cooling dagger in his hand, running his fingers of the glowing crest emblazoned on the hilt. It was hot to the touch, yet did not burn him, and he affectionately let the ridges and lines of the crest work their way into the memory of his finger as he renewed his oath to protect his people from anything that would try and harm them. This time, it was no tyrant king that enslaved them. It was not the FireHeart that chained them to the ash and fire of the mountain. This time, the danger was silent and unknown, striking from the dark and guided by unseen forces that allowed them to disappear back into the night, never leaving a trace. This danger was not magical or mythical, and the figure let out a shaky breath at the task at hand.

The enemy he sought were merely men and the dark hearts that drove them.

* * *

Yasha was walking through the halls of the castle at Arendelle, his mind preoccupied and his body exhausted. It had been weeks since he learned the name of the group that was attacking his people, yet even his aggressive investigation had turned up nothing more and he was feeling like he had no further avenues ahead of him. The attacks continued in the far reaches of the kingdom, still focusing on the caravans that were populated by the denizens of Fria and the cargo of fine goods they carried. Even when he had snuck into the caravans to try and catch the bandits, they would suspiciously never show. To his further aggravation, the news was always met with indifference by the Elsa's court. They remarked how the guards in the caravans were almost always of Fria, yet they could not protect the people and goods, as if were the internal matter of a kingdom that no longer existed. It almost became like a joke among them, though it was never spoken outright or in the company of the Queen.

Elsa was not oblivious to the matter either, though even as she ordered patrols out to try and find the bandits, they always came back empty-handed.

The situation was infuriating Yasha. Not only did he have to deal with the Regent pressuring Elsa to find a suitor befitting the Queen of Arendelle, the attacks against his people were making him short-tempered and easily provoked. Even when he found a few moments alone with her, he was distracted and never really able to relax, something that was straining their relationship. She had been patient with him, though there were times when her frustrations equaled his own and they were forced apart with raised voices and inflamed tempers, threatening this seemingly tenuous romance they had forged in the time when it needed to be infallible.

Yet, he could never wave the attacks from his mind, and they was beginning to dominate his every waking moment.

As he walked into a quiet area of the castle, Yasha suddenly was aware of a looming presence at the corners of his eyes. Strangely, he realized they had been there all along and that he should have been alerted to their presence far sooner. There was the sound of swords and uniforms, and they had been watching his every move.

Their apparent interest him made him stop, and linger in the empty hallway for a moment. "Why do you follow me? Surely your duties lie elsewhere in the castle," he said as he turned to the two guards that followed him. They were young, but still older than he. He recognized them instantly as soldiers of Fria, now absorbed into the force protecting the kingdom of Arendelle as part of the Royal Guard. He still had trouble getting used to seeing them in their green uniforms instead of the colors of their lost kingdom, but that was the reality of their world and the truths they had to learn to accept.

The first of the guards stepped forward, showing loyalty in his eyes. "Our duties lie with you, my king. We are concerned for your safety," he responded, giving him the title he despised and showing the lines that still existed in the ranks of Elsa's Guard.

Yasha scoffed at the moniker and at the suggestion that needed their protection within the walls of Elsa's castle. "Do not speak nonsense. I am no child and can take care of myself. You are now soldiers of Arendelle, and your duty lies to it and the Queen," he said, rebuking them and their misplaced loyalties.

The second guard exchanged a glance with the first, then stepped forward as well. "Are you not the future king of Arendelle? We thought you and the Queen…" he began, though he was silenced by the way it soured Yasha's expression and lit a fire in his eyes.

"By the mountain, this place is built with tongues for keystones," he seethed, annoyed that even his people were taking part in the gossip machine that worked tirelessly within the walls of Arendelle. He had no patience to deal with this, even from his own people, and he quickly waved them off with a stern hand and a stern warning. "Fulfill your duties and leave the bedroom chatter to barons and barmaids. Go now."

Both guards stiffened and bowed to him. "Yes, my king," they said in unison, having the last word in their allegiance to his bloodline. Then they quickly turned and disappeared, leaving Yasha alone once more to grumble to himself.

Sighing and rubbing his eyes, Yasha rolled his head back tiredly, wondering just how long he would have to live in the shadow of his fallen father. It aggravated him even more to think that his own people were crafting a crown due to precedence, and not by his deeds or the place he was trying to earn at Elsa's side through love. It seemed like half of the world was planning his coronation, while the other half planned for his wake, making him wonder exactly where he fit in, and how he could ever feel like he had earned his place in Elsa's kingdom.

It was infuriating to see the path before him, yet still not know who was laying the stones. "How easily that others crown the reluctant king," he sighed, turning back to continue his path to nowhere while suffering the realization that he once again had no control over the world around him.

It seemed no matter what he did, there were shadows in the world he could never escape.

Just as he was about to proceed, he heard the sounds of footsteps and swords once more, though he was entirely too exhausted to continue to deal with the stubbornness of his people. He was beginning to think that he needed to do something about this apparition, the obsolete King of Fria, simply in order to have a clear picture of who he really was. "I told you to return to your…" he sighed as he turned once more, though it was not the same two guards he found, but a large fist coming towards him and knocking all light to darkness.

* * *

By the time Johann had entered the room, he found Yasha awake, sitting in the chair with his hands chained and his eyes glaring at him from within the dim light. The two older guards still stood quietly at his sides and were proud of the bruises and cuts he had on his face. Johann was also pleased by the way they had handled him. "Well, it seems you're finally showing your station. People like you deserve to sit in chains, not chat intimately with the Queen," he said, closing the door quietly behind him.

Yasha was rolling his tongue over a cut in his lip and kept staring at him, though his expression was calm and his voice steady. "What do you want?" he asked, appearing merely annoyed by the abduction.

Johann found his calm demeanor aggravating, but hid it well as he walked before him, resting his hand across the hilt of his sword and shrugging lightly. "For you to leave Arendelle and never come back," he admitted, though he knew that was a tall wish to hope for, "But I guess you'll need a little persuasion to see things my way. And I don't think these two made much progress with that, did they?" Yasha leaned back casually in his chair, not bothering to respond or even look to the two guards. Johann smiled, feeling he had assessed him well. "No, you're not the type of man to be scared away with a little pain," he continued, idly wagging his sword as it hung at his side. "I actually find that to be an admirable trait. It's easy to see how you've bedeviled the Queen, but that's why it's come to this, really.

"I understand that some of your people have been hounded by some unsavory characters lately. Pity that. As a captain of the Guard, I could see to it that such terrible incidents stop. Your people would no longer be bothered and would get to enjoy living in the splendor of Arendelle, just as our wise queen intended." A distinctly perverse smile came over his face as he leaned down to Yasha, placing his hands on the armrest of the chair. It was fun to be in complete control of him. "All you have to do is go away. Don't involve yourself with our queen any more, and your people will be safe. It sounds like a fair deal to me."

"And, isn't sacrificing for your people something you're very good at?"

Yasha glared harshly back at him, not liking the foulness of his aura or the marginalization of what he had already sacrificed. It was sad to know that such people existed even in Elsa's serene kingdom, and he wondered if she knew about such things. Inwardly, he hoped that she did not, as he had always hoped she did not have to explore the darker places of the world, where shadows always existed in the presence of light.

Yasha, on the other hand, was used to the darker places. "Is that it?" he asked casually and gestured to the shackles around his wrists, "All of this just to lay your claim on her?"

Johann leaned back and scowled, not liking the way he evaded his intimidation. He found dealing with this man to be more trouble than he initially thought. "What I _claim_ is fate. Since we were children, I've grown up watching her from afar, locked away like a doll, afraid and fragile. I swore that one day she would never have to be afraid again. It's always been my destiny to be the one who would protect her, especially from criminals like you," he snarled, pacing a few steps back and glaring harshly at him.

To his surprise, Yasha laughed. "Watched her your whole life?" he mused, smirking at the way his reaction angered him, "Perhaps you have been watching the wrong doll. I have known Elsa but a short time. She is not as fragile as you would make her to be."

"You'd dare to tell me of the woman I was born to marry?" he scoffed, feeling his blood boil under his skin at the way he referred to her by name. "You were not here to see her sitting at the windows of the castle, afraid to come out, afraid to see what people might think of these powers of hers. I've devoted my life to her! I became her shield and her sword. Only I can accept her in light of this curse she bears. Only my love can help her become the queen she's truly meant to be!"

Yasha scowled at the way he saw Elsa only in where she stood in relation to him. That did not sound like love, but reeked of narcissism and control. In his heart, he wanted Elsa to remain true to herself and not become what anyone else wanted her to be.

"One does not love another when they already know what they should become. By trying to change Elsa, you would destroy the very thing you claim to love," he said sharply.

The idea that he knew her better than him made Johann flush with anger, and he struggled to come up with a civilized response. The entire course of the conversation had gotten away from him, and he was starting to understand Yasha's reputation for a dominating the very air around him. "Enough of this. I'm giving you one last chance to reconsider my offer," Johann said, rushing through his threats and cutting his hand through the air forcefully.

Yasha stared back with calm eyes, not impressed by him. "I decline," he replied.

Johann was even angrier and dropped his clenched hands to his sides, throwing a glance to the two guards. "Fine. I tried to do this the easy way. You'll force me to do it the hard way. Take him," he ordered, watching in glee as the two men finally broke from their statue-like poses and reached down to grab Yasha.

As he was wrenched to his feet, Yasha broke his pose as well. His hands still bound, he quickly stomped down onto the leg of the guard to his right, staggering him, though he was already in motion to bring the metal shackles up to the face of the other. The blow knocked the man back, while Yasha was twisting around to catch the staggered guard at the back of the neck with the dull, metal strike. The quick assault had taken Johann by complete surprise, and his reactions were stalled by the sudden rise of adrenaline. By the time he had regained his composure enough to reach for his sword, Yasha had lunged in one fluid motion, his shackled hands pushing against the pommel of Johann's sword, keeping it firmly in its scabbard, as his face hovered mere inches from him, all before either of the guards had hit the ground.

Johann's intimidation came out in a shaky exhale and he stared into the dangerously clear gray eyes before him. He could not move, and an atypical fear had rattled him.

Yasha, his posture tense and his hands keeping the sword out of play, stared fiercely back at him, his calm voice in stark contrast to Johann's fearful gasp. "Draw that blade and I will end this generous response I have so far given you," he warned, and watched the mixture of indignation and terror wash through the man's eyes. It had been enough to learn how far he would go to get what he wanted, and that he was at least aware of the attacks against his people, but he was no longer willing to play this game. "Put your efforts to better use. Unlock the shackles," he commanded. Johann seethed at him, his hand still tightly wrapped around his sword, but soon realized that if he could handle two of his best men while being chained, an undrawn sword would not serve him. This man's fierce reputation was apparently well-founded, and he cursed himself for underestimating him. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the sword and reached to his keys, taking them off his belt and feeling for the correct one for the shackles all while Yasha stared at him, their faces only a breath apart.

As the shackles fell to their feet loudly, Johann lowered his hands to his side and continued to stare back, trying to weigh his fear against his fury. With his hands freed, Yasha slowly pulled his hand away from the sword and stood straight, though did not back down. He continued to stare at him, defiant of his intent, and making sure to watch for any signs of him going for the sword again. "You would do well to remember this. I suffer no man's whim, and I care not for your desires to claim some fragile doll you watched from afar. But if I find you are somehow involved in these attacks against my people, whether by design or neglect, I will come for you, with no consideration of your station or politics," he said in a scathing tone. He then stepped even closer to him, their noses almost touching, and his eyes nearly burning through the weaker will of this bold captain of the Guard.

"And concerning Elsa, as long as she so chooses, I am hers. And should you ever try to otherwise persuade her, as you have just tried to persuade me, you will be mine."

Johann was forcing the air through his teeth, finding this man's pressure to be overwhelming. He had been told that he no longer wielded any magic, but the atmosphere was heavy enough to be supernatural. Even without the magic, he had proven he was as capable as Johann, who was trained by the finest instructors in the land and had earned his position in the guard from skill, rather than favor. As his father had warned him, he had underestimated this prince of Fria, and now suffered at his mercy. It was a painful lesson for him, particularly in regards to his ego. "I apologize for any inconvenience the actions of my men have caused," he hissed, using all of his strength to swallow that ego and placate Yasha's fierce eyes, "I'll see to it that it doesn't happen again."

Sadly, he had to salvage this disaster for the sake of his father's name, and his own.

Yasha slowly leaned back from him, smirking. The groaning of the men behind him made the man's attempts to salvage his honor pitiful, though he would never pretend to understand how the politics of Arendelle's court worked. The look in Johann's eyes was enough to assure him that his point had been taken. "At last, we see the true measure of the Regent's son," he replied, taking one last moment to give him a cautionary glare and then stepping around him to leave the room.

"Good day, Captain."

His eyes falling as Yasha disappeared, Johann shuddered with humiliation, feeling betrayed by not only his men, but his own courage. The outsider had bested him from a vulnerable position, insulted his honor and even forced him to apologize for the entire incident as a product of his poor leadership and cowardice. He had not even started to think about how his father would react when learning of this.

The worst part of all was that he had not succeeded in scaring him away from the arms of the Queen, the one place he desired over all others.

In a fit of anger, he quickly drew his sword and cleaved the back of the chair in half, watching it clatter to the floor loudly and wishing Yasha had still been sitting in it. It was frustrating beyond control that things had not worked out the way he wanted them to, and he could not remember a time when his father's plans had fallen apart so disastrously. And it was all because this criminal of a prince had been more skillful than he predicted, both physically and mentally. His demeanor had dominated the night, and when Johann tried to pinpoint the moment when he lost control, he realized that he never had it to begin with.

Slowly pushing his sword back into his scabbard, he glared at the broken chair, ignoring the stirring of his men. Seething, he clenched his hands at his side and despite his infuriating submission to him, he swore under his breath that this was not that last of his dealings with the impudent Prince of Fria.


	5. Becoming Capulet

**V**

Becoming Capulet

For nearly three hours, Queen Elsa's advisors had been sitting in the cavernous hall, discussing a myriad of topics that concerned the kingdom, though it was it was the one that had brought Yasha to the gathering that had been gaining force, particularly because it had the usually reserved prince in a heated exchange with the Baron of her Guard.

"This situation is intolerable! More and more of my people are falling victim to these vagrants and thieves. I demand to know what steps are being taken to protect them!" Yasha called loudly, standing from his chair and planting his hands on the table. His attention was solely on the plump man across the table from him and his eyes were on fire.

Baron Wingate was the head of the Royal Guard and the military commander of the entire kingdom. He was balding and had a thick moustache that ruffled whenever he spoke. While he had grown fat over the years, he retained the thickness of his limbs that came from being a soldier his whole life, something that also would not allow him to dressed down in front of his queen by this upstart prince from another kingdom. "There is already a detachment of guards sent out with every caravan, which is more than we provide for our own people!" he argued back, standing as well as his moustache flared in contempt. "It was at _your _request that the remnants of Fria's soldiers be placed in charge of guarding your people, Prince Yasha. I believe our queen has been more than fair in accommodating your requests."

The exchange was making Elsa short-tempered and she pressed her hand to her head to fight away the throbbing. "Please, this doesn't have to be a shouting match," she said sternly to them both, trying as hard as she could to not pay too much attention to Yasha being there, but also not appear like she was trying to ignore him. Keeping him at the correct distance for these formal meetings was harder than she ever imagined. "Prince Yasha, I understand your concerns. We're also very concerned that these criminals haven't been found yet, and I'm confident that Baron Wingate and his men are doing their best to try and make sure everyone who lives in Arendelle is protected from such attacks," she said, trying to placate him in the most professional manner she could manage. She never liked the look of fury that was presently in his eyes.

It made her remember scarier times.

"It's as Your Majesty says," the Baron added, keeping his eyes on him and flaunting her support like it was her very banner hanging over his head.

Yasha's eyes never wavered from the Baron, and his fire did not dim. More and more, he felt like there were unknown forces at work against him and that even some in the kingdom had devious intentions towards him and his people. Those suspicions were making him more vicious than he usually was. "Perhaps their best is not good enough when it does not concern _your own people," _he said poisonously. He was not even sure who the remark was aimed at, for at the moment, he felt like the entire room was his enemy.

Baron Wingate's face went redder than his uniform at the comment. "Of all the insolence!" he roared.

"Yasha!" Elsa snapped, letting her emotions get the better of her discipline. Usually, she was very good about not calling him so personally in front of anyone but Anna, yet the remark had offended even her. With the look in his eyes, she was not even sure who he was accusing.

Yasha winced at her voice and looked to her, seeing the anger and hurt in her eyes. While his agitation at the situation had been burning hotly inside, he realized that Elsa was the only one in the room that had been constantly supporting him and that mindlessly lashing out at the world would not help his people. It would certainly not win him any points with her. On the contrary, it would most certainly earn him her wrath.

Taking a deep breath, he fought down his own anger as penance to her furious eyes, then looked back to the Baron with a curt bow. His voice was strained. "I apologize, Baron. That was unfair of me," he admitted, feeling only a little honesty in his own admission. "I appreciate all that Arendelle does for the people of Fria, of course."

With the tension diffused for the moment, both Yasha and the Baron sat down in their chairs.

"This is getting us nowhere," Elsa said after a moment of catching her breath. She sat back in her chair regally and rested her hands in her lap, though she was having trouble resisting the urge to glare at Yasha for his behavior, feeling it was just adding to this rebellious reputation he already had. She knew how much this topic bothered him and how determined he could be in protecting his people, but she also could not simply let him fling accusations of incompetence and nepotism at her advisors, especially when she did not agree with them. Feeling flustered, she sometimes had to irreverently be queen, even to him.

To stave off the temptation of glaring at him, she turned her attention to the other side of the table. "Baron, do you have any idea why we've not been able to find those responsible for attacking the caravans, or why they're specifically attacking the ones carrying the goods from the artisans?"

He shook his head and sighed. "No, Your Majesty. I can only assume it's because the Frian goods fetch a high price in the markets, though I'm baffled at how they continue to elude my men," he admitted, giving her a guilty glance. "In all my years, I've never dealt with such elusive thugs. It's like they know exactly where to ambush the caravan and how many men they need to overpower the guards. Then they just disappear into the mists. I can't explain it."

Elsa sighed. "Two months of attacks, with so many people hurt and countless goods lost to these ruffians. It's any wonder that no one has been killed yet. I think we can all understand why Prince Yasha is so concerned here. The people from Fria are now part of Arendelle and they deserve the same safety that any of our people enjoy. I won't tolerate violence against my people. I want the attacks stopped and those responsible brought to justice," she said strongly, commanding the room. Despite the contention among her circle, her voice cut powerfully through the room.

When it came to the needs of her people, her will was law.

"We are to serve, Queen Elsa," Wingate said, saluting her with the antiquated slogan of the Royal Guard. The peace that settled on the room made everyone seem calmer, even if it was obvious that there was still a great deal of unresolved tension between Yasha and the rest of her circle. He continued to sit silently, his eyes cast to the middle of the table and his jaw clenched at the failed resolutions of the gathering.

While cooler heads prevailed and they all sat there on their laurels, his people continued to suffer while he helplessly looked on.

Bitterly, he wondered if he had been invited simply to be made a fool in front of Elsa.

"Well, why don't we call it a day then. There have been enough frayed nerves for one evening, don't you agree, Your Highness?" Regent Stenson suddenly said, breaking his unusual silence. Despite the heated nature of the meeting, the Regent had simply sat back and watched the entire time, not mediating between hotter heads as he was known for. That strange fact had been bothering Elsa the entire time, especially as it had been him that invited Yasha in the first place.

A bad feeling had crept into her stomach yet again.

"Yes, I think that's a good idea," she agreed, rising to her feet to formally signal the others that they could do the same. As the queen had the ultimate authority, it was she that commanded their actions, even if she was often pointed in certain directions by her advisors, especially the eminent Regent. As the others stood, Yasha joined them and prepared to leave the room to let his head cool. A sideward glance found Elsa looking his direction and he was, at once, aware that she had a few things to say to him privately.

Unlike normal, he was not looking forward to being alone with her at the moment.

"Prince Yasha, would you stay for a moment? I wish it that you talk with me," Regent Stenson suddenly called, instantly snaring both his and Elsa's attention. He had not risen from his chair and was looking to the young man with unyielding eyes. Elsa showed her anxiety at the idea by lingering nearby, her eyes first on him and then slowly moving to Yasha. Her actions drew his eyes slowly to her. "Unless Your Highness has other business and cannot spare him?" His tone signaled to her that any objection of hers would not be met with courtesy.

He would have his time with the fiery Prince.

Elsa looked between them, her eyes filled with worry. She could still remember his pointed advice about their secret relationship, and she suspected that this was the entire reason he had invited him in the first place. Lately, the Regent's actions had cut through her like a knife. She really had no idea what to expect from him. "No," she finally said, pasting her hands to her waist and portraying the posture she knew he wanted from her. While she did not want this to happen, she felt she had no choice but to leave. The Regent still had such influence over her.

"Excuse me then, Regent. Prince Yasha."

With another worried glance, Elsa gracefully turned and walked from the room, with the guards slowly closing the doors behind her.

Regent Stenson had watched their entire exchange silently, though now his eyes rested solely on the man from Fria. In truth, he had been long-waiting to get him alone, yet had been biding his time until everything was right. Seeing how frenzied the young man was, he felt compelled to move. "Well now, I don't think we've ever just sat and talked, especially when we obviously have such important things to discuss. Please sit," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Yasha hesitated, feeling the powerful aura of this man. "What important things does my lord wish to discuss?" he said, not moving.

The Regent seemed annoyed by his hesitation and knit his hands across his stomach. His glare carried the weight of the kingdom behind it. "A good many important things, not the least of which being the Queen," he replied.

"I fail to see how such conversation would be appropriate, Regent," Yasha replied, feeling anxious about facing him with Elsa as the topic. He could easily see now why she had been so disturbed by his private counsel of their courtship at Johann's reception. This man's eyes demanded obedience.

"All that happens in the kingdom is my duty, young man, including the interests and well-being of our young queen. You are part of that now, whether I agree with it or not. Sit down," Stenson barked, taking the impressive pressure that Yasha was known for and dispersing it with his powerful tone. If this was to be a battle of wills, Yasha was finding that this man was not on the same level as his impetuous son.

Regent Stenson was a colossus of will.

Feeling he would not be able to simply intimidate him as he had Johann, Yasha slowly moved over and sat in the chair. His movements were slow, but deliberate. He was finding it difficult to control his pace when looking into the stern eyes of this noble patriarch.

"How may I serve, Regent?"

Finally finding him where he wanted him, Stenson settled into his chair further and spent a moment in silence, looking over the young Prince. Taking his time to review the qualities of the young man, he found him impressive and well-deserving of his fearsome reputation. He could also see why his own foolish son had been bested in all of his impatience. That fact alone drove some of the animosity to bleed through his tone. "Is that what you seek? To serve?" he asked.

Yasha was silenced for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I do not understand the question," he admitted.

The Regent shrugged at his confusion, acting as if it could not be more straightforward. "It's a simple matter," he replied, though his eyes became significantly heavier. "Do you wish to serve Arendelle, or rule it?"

The question made Yasha grimace and his heart was beating faster in his chest. That was not what he was expecting, yet the question was significant. In truth, he had never really thought about what courting Elsa meant for their future. He had spent every moment since meeting her in a bid to cast away the title of king, fearful of the standard that had been set by his father, yet by living in her heart, he was inevitably destined to embrace it. That fact hit him hard. "Rule it?" he asked, his voice giving away the weight the idea had. "You suspect I court Queen Elsa out of some desire to take her kingdom?" He was obviously disturbed by both the implication, but also the reality of the suggestion.

The Regent was not oblivious to his reactions. "Considering our recent past, the thought had crossed my mind, yes. You've brought your people here. Your soldiers now intermix with our own. You seek to make a claim on our queen, do you not? Where does Fria end and Arendelle begin for you, I wonder," he remarked, never letting up his gaze for a moment.

Yasha's eyes fell away. He stared down at the table, his eyes moving around in thought and his hands clenched. Strangely, he was not prepared to see himself in the crown, or ruling over a people that he felt this recent, shallow contempt for. All he ever held to was Fria and he continued to do that now. "There is no Fria, my lord, and I do not wish for anything but the welfare of my people," he claimed, cowardly grasping the one thing he knew, while running away from the one thing he longed for.

Regent Stenson was very disappointed in his response. In honesty, he had been expecting more from this man, yet he saw a wild uncertainty in his resolve, regardless of how strong it was. There were all of the things that Elsa claimed in him, the nobility, the courage, the compassion, yet there was so much else layered withing them; doubt, fear and anger.

Before him, he did not see a king.

He saw a boy.

Running his hand over his chin, he continued cutting into him, to find what lay beneath. "What of Elsa, then? What do you desire for her?" he asked bluntly.

Yasha's eyes instantly went up to him and his mouth opened, though his voice failed him as he met the Regent's gaze. As much as he wanted to plainly claim his intent for her, he felt like he could not do it alone. He wanted Elsa there with him to bolster his courage. "That is a personal matter," he replied and felt agitated to have this obligation to answer him.

In his heart, he felt like he should not have to justify his love to anyone.

"Do not presume to tell me of her personal matters!" Stenson roared back, suddenly infuriated by his lack of a clear answer. The reaction made Yasha flinch. "After the death of her father, I've raised the child as if she were my own! I taught her to rule this country, not hand it over to some criminal who sneaks around taking young women into the night! You'll not sit there and evade my questions out of consideration of her privacy." There was a great mixture of emotion in him. Not only was he the Regent, in this matter he was the father of two wayward children. It was no lie that he and the King had entertained the notion that Elsa and Johann could someday wed, yet with his ancient friend now gone, he was the only one who could see that destiny come true.

Yet, there was one great obstacle to that dream, and it sat defiantly before him.

"You ask me of things I cannot answer readily, my lord, not out of evasion, but honor," Yasha answered back, now feeling his indignation overpowering his self-doubt. The Regent was suddenly speaking like Johann and holding this fragile little doll in his hands. Hearing anyone marginalize Elsa was infuriating to him, even if that person was someone Elsa loved and cherished as if he were her own father.

The Regent flared. "What do you know of honor? A man who sneaks around the castle like a thief? A son who opposed his own father? A prince…" he scoffed, though then realized he was letting his emotions get away from him, which was something he knew to be dangerous in front of this man. "Well, as you said, you have no country, and what is a prince with no country of his own?"

The last point came out viciously.

Yasha bristled in his chair. The Regent's apparent regard for Elsa was bad enough, but to hear such blatant insults made this conversation almost more than he could bear. In many ways, this seasoned statesman was far more dangerous than his son, with his wit sharper than any sword. His position, his pedigree and his penchant for speech all intimidated the young prince and he felt far less able to deal with him than Johann. For the moment, as he remembered Anna's advice to him, he once more kept his eyes on the thing that mattered most. "I do not speak of my honor, but hers. And I will not speak of her as if she were some trinket to be bartered. I would not do so, even to her respected father," he parried, finally finding the solid ground he had been seeking in order to face off with him.

If there was anything he could hold to and give him strength, it was Elsa.

Regent Stenson sat for a long time, eyeing the young man with his lips pursed and his eyes forceful. While he thought he had cornered him, the boy had come back with a beautifully poetic response, one that not only defended the Queen's honor, but also paid respect to him and the late King simultaneously. In terms of verbal fencing, it was a swift and dedicated strike. A grin was fighting through his reprimanding scowl.

_This boy is indeed something, Adgar. I find I wish you were here to meet him in my stead._

Idly stroking his unexpected amusement, Stenson suddenly leaned forward and slapped his hand across the table, sending a loud crack of thunder through the silent hall. "Hah!" he barked, smiling wider than he had smiled in a long time. Against his better judgment, he was starting to like this whelp that sat before him, regardless of what he was going to have to do to him. "Well, I'll admit that you're an impressive young man. And you truly have the tongue of a politician."

Yasha was a bit put off by his sudden change of pace, but the comment did little to flatter him. "But not the heart, I fear," he replied, satisfied in how it struck the Regent's flowering mood.

Regent Stenson let the last comment go, knowing when to take a jab and when to throw one. He was already convinced of the next steps he needed to take in order to deal with this wily prince that stood within his kingdom and there was little to be gained in beginning another argument.

In fact, it was time to see what he was really made of.

"Then perhaps we should find you a place in Arendelle a little more befitting of your true talents," he suggested as he put his plans into motion.


	6. A Captain and the Queen

**VI**

A Captain and the Queen

Anna and Elsa were both staring, speechless. They had not expected this when being called into the garden, and especially not from the one who had called them. Before them stood Yasha, dressed in the uniform of Arendelle's Royal Guard, standing straight with an imperial hat tucked under his arm and a firm expression on his face. It was bizarre to see him in the colors of the Guard, with grays and greens replacing the fiery red and black of his homeland, though neither of them could deny that they strangely suited him and gave him a regal appearance. There were some small changes from the other guards they were used to seeing, such as the black gem he kept pinned to his breast, a reminder that while he wore the colors of Arendelle a part of him would always claim Fria in his heart, and there was a lack of the normal sword hanging at his side. Instead, his Xenocryst was at the back of his belt, leaving him less-armed than was standard for the guards but harkening back to his appearance when in exile, something that stirred up powerful emotions for both of his royal onlookers.

Knowing what they knew from the path they had walked together, the atypical armament did not detract from his presence in the slightest.

They both knew how dangerous that dagger could be.

While both woman had been stalled by the surprise, it was Anna that first broke free of the shock as she finally finished running her eyes all over him. "Yasha, you look…really good, actually," she said, clutching her chin with an impressed smile on her face. In spite of the shocking revelation, the handsome uniform seemed to fit, especially with his neater appearance and disciplined expression. He had always carried himself in much the same way a soldier did, martially and with authority and discipline, though neither of them really knew why that was in lieu of his royal bloodline. The Princess was standing before him and fawning over his new look, brushing a few specks of dirt from his sleeve and was otherwise engaged by this strange turn of events. To her, it simply made interesting conversation and gave her yet another reason to be enamored with her kidnapper, only making their kinship that much more bizarre.

Elsa, however, stood a distance from them and obviously did not share her impression, staring harshly with her lips pursed tight.

She had yet to say a word.

Anna appeared oblivious to her sister's mood as she bounced around, scrutinizing every aspect of his appearance and grinning widely at the way he stood still for her. It was sort of fun picking over him. "What do the little things here mean?" she asked, stepping closer and running her fingers over two small metal pins at his lapels. They were ancient symbols of Arendelle and she had seen some like them elsewhere, but usually on older and fatter men. She vaguely remembered them on Johann's collar as well.

"They are a mark of rank. For a captain of the Guard," he replied, his eyes slowly leaving Elsa's silent gaze to look at her. Seeing her attend to him so cheerfully melted away his tense expression and he reveled in their bond, even as he knew his true courage would be needed as soon as Elsa surmounted her initial shock. He would enjoy Anna's reaction in the time he had before that happened.

"Really? Isn't that like, pretty important?" she asked, arching to the side to get a better look at the back.

Yasha let a small smile slip through, showing that despite the gravity of the situation, he always enjoyed her candor. "It is a position of responsibility, yes. Part of that will be keeping the Princess from getting into too much trouble. A very difficult charge," he said slyly.

Anna's face brightened at the prospect and a devilish glimmer appeared in her eyes as she popped back in front of him, eager to meet that challenge head on. "Oh, is that so? Just you just wait, mister. I think you'll find you've bitten off more than you can chew," she said impishly as she put her hands on her hips and smirked up at him, trying to size herself up to this new officer. The very idea of him policing her made her mind whirl with thoughts on how to make that as difficult as possible, though she suddenly had a scandalous realization, one that brought her cheerful assessment to a grinding halt. It was a realization so grand that it twisted her face at the very thought of it. "So wait. The decided to make you, the guy who snuck into the castle in the middle of the night, knocked out like fifty guards and then kidnapped the Princess, that would be me, into a captain of the Royal Guard charged with protecting the Princess, me again, from guys just like you?" she asked, biting the back of her lips petulantly.

Yasha quirked his brow playfully at her as he was not lost on the irony. "Who better to make sure it does not happen again?" he replied. The response made Anna burst into laughter and she could not argue with that logic. In truth, she could not think of anyone better suited to protecting the treasures of the castle, though she could also not get past the opportunity to mess with him at every given moment and she continued to think of ways to make his duties as aggravating as possible, until a chilling voice behind her broke the charming moment and signaled that Elsa was finally ready to share her mind.

"You've joined the Royal Guard?" she asked, glaring at him in a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Yasha's eyes left Anna and his back straightened, as if gathering his strength to face the Queen. An unsettled breath escaped his lips and he had no answer for her but the silence of his eyes, betraying the fact that he did not have any snarky answers to offer her as he did to Anna, and that he seemed unprepared to face her response. Even his uniform and branded weapon did not seem up to the task of enduring her reaction, but he was steadfast in trying to bear the fury in her eyes. He knew she would not be happy with this choice, but he also knew there was no other way to get what he sought.

As he had alluded to her before, he was accustomed to doing what he did not like in order to get what he wanted.

Anna picked up on the atmosphere and felt her skin prickle as well, finding that she did not want to be there at the moment. When Elsa was angry, things tended to get very cold and seeing as she was not the object of her anger at the moment, she was going to spare herself any peripheral frostbite and take an convenient exit from their looming quarrel. "I'll just leave you two alone for a bit," she said nervously, noticing the electricity between them. Reading Elsa was easy and she imagined there was probably a lot more to this than she knew, even though she was in the confidence of both of them. Sometimes, she knew when to give them their time alone, especially when it meant she could get out of the snow.

Grimacing for the earful he was about to receive, she patted Yasha across the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. "Good luck," she whispered, then ducked out from between them and quickly marched away.

As Anna fled, neither Elsa nor Yasha watched. They stared at one another, strangely knowing the exact feelings in the their hearts, even if they would not admit it outright. It was a connection that had discovered even before they had faced Nazir and the FireHeart, this silent understanding of one another, and it had only become stronger as they had fallen into love. While the stagnant air that was lingering over them demanded that something change in their world, this turn of events had taken her completely off guard and she could not help but feel betrayed by his actions. The most painful aspect was that he did not even talk to her before making this dramatic change to their lives, and that was fueling the burning anger that tore within her chest.

It was as if he did not trust her with his most intimate thoughts.

"Why?" she asked after a moment, bleeding the betrayal she felt in her voice.

The weight of that single word made him exhale slowly. "There is not a simple, single reason," he replied.

Elsa's hands clenched at her waist and she felt a new aspect of the burning in her chest. As he stood before her as a captain of the Guard, she was reminded of the dauntless son of the Regent and his recent blitzkrieg against her. Even as she had tried to make it utterly clear to Yasha that she was not interested in the man's overtures, his actions and his appearance suddenly made her feel like he did not believe her as much as she hoped. The very thought made her angrier. "Is this because of Johann?" she asked venomously. "Is this some kind of game between you two?"

Yasha's eyes flashed and he felt his skin flush with anger. Just the mention of the name infuriated him, yet it was nothing compared to the idea that he had done what he did just to try and play some game to possess her. The very notion made him vicious as well. "It is no game," he shot back sharply, though he then forced himself try and calm down. In his heart, he knew it was foolish to get angry at her when she was justified in her response, and while he had wanted to seek her out before he made the decision and try to approach their problems rationally, there had simply been too much fire in him to move rationally, and he knew he had once more been villainous to her, even if his heart was in the right place.

Secretly, he reflected on how that was a recurring theme between them.

Sighing at his own sins, he relaxed a bit and dropped the hat from under his arm, hitting it against his leg in recompense and trying to dissolve the tense atmosphere between them. His shoulders fell as he began to feel the weight of his decision, most potently as he tried to bear the look of betrayal in her eyes. "It was the Regent," he admitted, looking away slightly, finding that such a simple answer, while true, suddenly did not even convince himself of the gravity of his choice.

Elsa flinched. "The Regent?" she repeated, unable to believe that he was somehow involved in this, especially since she thought he did not look upon Yasha fondly.

He nodded as his eyes rose, feeling even more pressured by her response. "He suggested that by finding a way to serve in your kingdom, I could disperse this stigma that surrounds me, to find some kind of station for myself. I will never be anything more than the man who kidnapped Anna if I simply wander aimlessly around these halls, and I will never have the needed pedigree to claim what I most want to claim," he said, making sure that by keeping his resolute eyes on her, she knew exactly what that was.

"I know this is not what you want, but how could I pass up the chance to find a place in your world?"

Elsa pursed her lips. It was possibly the most foolish thing he had ever said to her and she felt her anger towards him subside like a storm being broken upon the mountains. The burning in her heart changed color and she clenched her hand over it, looking to him with a brooding sense of love and compassion. She could barely believe he did not already understand it.

"You already have a place in my world," she replied softly.

The response melted away his anger as well and he sighed, pushing his hand back through his hair and trying to figure out when the world had gotten away from him again. If things were only as simple as the purity of the understanding they shared, nothing else would have mattered. Had their story been written in an ancient fairytale, they would have simply been together after the resolution in Fria, a noble king falling in love with a compassionate queen. It was probably the simplest wish he had in his heart, yet the both of them knew that their world did not exist in a book and that their happy ending would only come if they were willing to write it themselves. He had been willing to do anything to be with her, though the price was often harder to bear when paying it with the hand, and not the mouth. "The Regent disagrees, as does a good number of your court. To them, I am a stranger in your kingdom, a jaded outsider. A criminal. To them, I have no claim to this affection you give me," he lamented, showing his renewed anger at the situation.

"But you're a prince, Yasha. A king!" she cried passionately, shocked he would throw that away to become just another soldier of Arendelle.

The titles hit him as hard as always, though for different reasons now. They were titles he had given up, yet in light of his proclaimed distaste for them he found that once he actually cast them away, he felt a powerful sense of loss, as if a thread from his heart had always been tied around his birthright. He feared the blood of Nazir, yet could never cast it from his veins. Being a prince had always given him a strangely noble image of himself, yet now, as he was nothing more than an officer in her Guard, he felt as if he had somehow betrayed the father and king he so blatantly despised, and that he regretted casting away his bloodline, no matter how much he despised it.

In truth, he did not understand that part of himself well.

"I am prince of a kingdom that no longer exists," he replied hotly, his pale eyes burning fiercely as he slowly looked from her and out over the view of her kingdom beyond. He was obviously torn inside by the fate he had laid out for them. "I grew tired of the titles bestowed upon me, Elsa. They felt like nothing more than banners pinned across my chest, placed and removed as easily as one would a button up a shirt."

He was suddenly trying to answer questions that had plagued him since the moment he had stepped from his frozen world and into hers. "Prince. King. In your world, they mean nothing, as frivolous as a joke and just as pathetic in their inability to do anything more than provide invitations to mindless parties and insure that someone will have shined my boots by next morning sun," he scoffed as he considered just how different his life truly was between his days in exile and the luxuries he was now afforded. So many things the Regent had said resonated with him, with the logic of throwing away his entitlement as a prince becoming stronger with every moment he listened. If the title had not given him the authority to maintain the welfare of his people, he would have forsaken it earlier.

Yet in this new capacity as an officer in the Royal Guard, he hoped new avenues would open up to him in making sure the people of Fria were safe, especially in light of the continuing attacks on them.

That was easily another reason he had taken the Regent up on his offer.

"Elsa," he said, turning back to her and laying out to her the biggest reason of all, the one that even the Regent had oddly been alluding to in between all of his well-versed lines of persuasion, "By taking up this charge, I will earn my place in your kingdom instead of having it given to me on a silver platter. I will fight to protect you using these terrible crafts I command, and when I have paid in blood and sweat all the price your world demands of me, I will then be able to make my claim on your heart, with no more consideration of politics or tradition. In this world, I cannot be your prince, but I can be your captain."

"Because I have loved you, I will serve you. Because I have served you, I will finally be able to love you."

The beautiful reasoning made Elsa whimper, feeling that she could barely contain the burning in her chest. She had been trying so hard to convince him of the place he already owned that she felt blinded to the realities of their situation. This aspect of her court had never been so painfully apparent, until the moment she tried to place him into the world of Arendelle. It was almost impossible to see him as a part of it other than as this stranger he imagined himself to be, not because of the feelings she had for him, but rather for the world itself; frozen and unchanging. His drastic actions were more and more rational for her, no matter how painful it seemed. Oddly, she felt powerless to resolve this problem for him, using her authority as queen to somehow command the world to accept him. It was a painful reminder that there were things in life that no queen could command, leaving them to conquer their problems not as a prince or queen, but as a man and woman in love.

As much as she hated this decision, she found it was the only one that would allow them to be together in the way the world would allow.

These realizations made her walk slowly to him, looking up to him with all of the love they were not allowed to share openly. Her hands went tenderly to his face and she could not fight the depressed frown that dominated her features, even as she always wanted to be beautiful for him and forever smile. "How can you do this, after all that you've done already?" she whispered, thinking how cruel fate was over them, and the sacrifices they continued to make.

Her touch made him shiver and he felt the tension bleed from him. It was only when he could feel her touch that everything else did not matter, making him realize that if he were forever allowed to be in her embrace, he might not care for anything that happened to him or what stones were cast. He found her touch to be a frighteningly possessive thing. "I have earned nothing if I am unwilling to continue fighting for it," he replied, reaching up and putting his hand over hers as it rested on his skin. Seeing how his touch also pleased her, he affectionately placed a kiss at her wrist and looked back with calm and determined eyes, showing that even though the decision left a bitter taste in his mouth as well, he would only move forward.

"The life of a prince is a small price to pay to walk the path that leads me to you."

His continuing chivalry made her melt into him and cradle his face with her hands, feeling her face warm at the sensation of his arms wrapping around her. The decision and the demands felt distant as long as she could be with him and she took one last moment to find their future in his eyes, as if that were the only place it could be seen. If he was willing to do this much, she would find the courage to endure, to fight for it as well. The world would not be able to keep them apart, not as long as they both loved one another and cherished the powerful connection they had found among the pain and sadness of their treaded path. If he was willing to do so much, she was willing to do more, if only to keep being with him in this way.

Feeling overwhelmed by the truth of his love for her and without even looking around to see if anyone was watching, Elsa leaned up and passionately kissed him with all of the power of her heart and in spite of any consequence of being discovered.

At the moment, it felt like all she could do.

* * *

Several weeks after Yasha's appointment as captain of the Guard, there was the sound of fighting on the grounds of Arendelle Castle and the sight of men challenging one another to all forms of combat. Bodies were thrown around in the dirt and flesh was bruised by conflict, for this was the realm of the soldier and the ground where men met other men in the purest form of rivalry. When guards were not on station, they came there to train and learn, but also to bond and laugh. Sometimes they were angry and fought for real, while most of the time it was simply a way to hone their skills, but it was always under the watchful eyes of the officers and always for the good of the men as a whole.

Under the cool morning sun, a particular group of men were under the scrutiny of the others, not because of any discriminating banner or color, but because at the center of the group stood the man who was the perennial talk of the land, and now the focus of countless eyes within the Royal Guard and beyond. His arrival had been anticipated for weeks and now that he had stepped out with the other men, they were eager to see how the life of a soldier would settle on this renowned prince and criminal.

In the dust and in the sun, all eyes were on the newly-appointed Captain Yasha.

With an aerobatic display of momentum, the guard of Arendelle landed squarely on his back, letting out a vocal grunt as the wind was knocked out of him. The rest of them were circled around and watching intently, seeing the large man spun through the air like a toy and then pinned there by the simplest of grasp to the wrist. Standing over the guard, Yasha forcefully held the man's arm, though there was no malice in his eyes, even as the large guard had come at him with fist like a club and spared no mercy in trying to give the new captain a proper welcome into the Guard. Instead of initiating him with the opportunity, the guard was groaning loudly and clutching at his twisted arm, while Yasha simply looked around at the others with calm intent and the desire to share these techniques with the rest of those tasked in protecting the kingdom and its queen. "Know what weapons you have at your disposal, but do not look only for swords and spears," Yasha called out to the onlookers, then released the groaning man and stood straight. He then looked down at the guard, gesturing to the man who was much larger than he was and trying to frame all that he had learned so long ago into something useful for his men. "Your opponent can also be your weapon. His movements, his posture, even his clothing. Any of it can be used against him. This is the most basic assumption of self defense, and the first thing you must learn is that in order to protect the kingdom, you must first protect yourself." The onlookers were tense as they watched, but also quiet. This was the new captain's first real introduction to them, at least in the way that mattered to soldiers. His lineage stirred up feelings of betrayal and resentment among the men, but also pride and loyalty, though in the current atmosphere all of these emotions were a dangerous mixture, volatile and just waiting to be set off.

That fact was not lost on Yasha as he sensed the enmity in the yard.

To defuse the tension, he calmly reached out his hand to the man, offering to help him up. He could see the man's face was red in embarrassment at failing so miserably at attacking him, even though Yasha had ordered it, and that the lines between the soldiers of Arendelle and Fria were still brightly drawn. Despite the way the man avoided the gesture, Yasha continued to instruct with his hand offered out, showing that he would not discern between those from his homeland and those from Arendelle. He would treat them all according to their own merit. "The first step in defeating an opponent is respecting them. Respect the fact that they are also fighting with all of their heart and that in spite of any assumptions you may have, they are capable of causing you harm. Battle is a conflict of wills, and respect of your enemy is the greatest defense you will have against those willed against you. Understand this, and you will already have the advantage," said strongly, then looked back to the large guard and waiting patiently for him to get over whatever expectations he had and acknowledge the respect he preached. The guard had been looking up at him, grasping his aching shoulder and heaving heavy breaths. Listening to him talk made his defeat seem less painful, despite his prejudices against the people from Fria, and he slowly reached up to take Yasha's hand, though he still appeared to have some kind intentions in his eyes. Pulling the man up took more effort than he thought, but Yasha had thrown aside his instincts and trusted the man to act with civility, something that paid off as the large man made no other attempts at him as he rose, and Yasha faced him with a firm nod, his eyes demanding obedience and courtesy.

The man hesitated a moment more, then satisfied his captain with a respectful nod.

Moving on, Yasha patting him across the arm to herd him back to the others and dusted off his shirt to free if from the dirt it had gathered in the scuffle. Like the other men, he was dressed in a plain, white undershirt that hung loosely to his lean frame, his standard pants and and a pair of dark jackboots. None of them were armed and none of them wore any indication of rank. It was a very simple uniform, but very practical for training. It also made them nothing more than men fighting for a common cause, something that would defy benchmark and border, and help them move as one.

As he continued to speak to the men standing before him, Yasha became the model image of an officer of Arendelle's Royal Guard, despite the fact he was from Fria. He stood tall and firm, and his eyes met each of those he instructed, making sure they heard the words and understood their meaning. His men were a conglomerate of those from both Arendelle and Fria, but they were all becoming enamored with the new captain, with the way he carried himself and the way he spoke.

They were especially interested in the way he fought.

While he spoke, one of the men from Arendelle softly elbowed the man next to him, speaking under his breath to try and avoid his captain from noticing the aside. "Hey. You're from Fria, right? Any idea why the captain's so good at this? I've never seen anyone floor Thias like that before," he said, his eyes still locked on Yasha.

The second man was surprised, finding that the soldiers from Arendelle did not often speak so casually to the soldiers from Fria, but his heart was burning with pride for his prince and he looked back to him with a mixture of that pride and of ancient sadness. "On occasion, King Nazir would send a few of us to find Prince Yasha and, as the King stated, 'see how he was coming along.' We would seek him out in the caves or elsewhere, and then do terrible things to him," he explained heavily, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the first man looked to him incredulously. It was precisely the response he expected, and felt he deserved. "It is a foul thing, to ruthlessly beat your prince by order of your king."

"Seriously!?" the first guard cried, though then muffled his voice to avoid the wrath of their lecturing commander. As Yasha continued to move around the circle of men and had not noticed their exchange, the man leaned back in and whispered even quieter, though his eyes showed he was now extremely intrigued by this man that stood before him. "But he used to be able to use magic, right? Couldn't he have just lit the back end of your pants on fire and sent you running?"

The second man shook his head, an odd sort of smile coming over him. "The Prince never once used his powers against us, but after a few years in exile, he no longer had any need. Sometimes he would disappear for months at a time, traveling the lands they say, but one day he returned and was able to do the things you see him do now, to move as he does. We do not know who taught him this, but from that point on he simply began figuring out how to best deal with us without causing us too much harm, protecting us from ourselves, you might say. Prince Yasha has a very kind heart, you see," he replied, then looked back to the man with his pride far outweighing his regret.

"But make no mistake. Before it was claimed by the mountain, Fria did not have a single man that could best him in martial combat."

The first man exhaled slowly and felt the contagious nature of that pride. It was impossible to not be impressed when they saw him move so fluidly and handle trained soldiers with nothing more than a firm grip. He wanted to know more about how he learned these things, imagining it would be quite a tale, though he was satisfied for the moment just by seeing him down in the dirt with them. Knowing that this man was his captain made him feel that much more capable of defending Arendelle, regardless of what land he came from. He suddenly wanted to follow this captain-prince anywhere he would lead them.

"It looks like we're not the only ones enjoying the captain's demonstration," whispered a third man, attracting the others and nodding up to an elevated walkway that overlooked the grounds. Eyes rose up and the men felt a new wave of pride coming over them, for what they saw there only flamed the fires of admiration they had for this infamously alluring man that had stepped out from the comforts of the castle to earn his place in the world.

"You're staring," Anna said with a smirk, nudging her sister with a playful elbow.

Elsa snapped from her trance and looked up from the grounds, straightening her back and blushing indignantly. "No, I'm not. You're imagining things," she replied indignantly, trying to fool the one person in the world she knew could not. It had only been a short time since they had ventured out, though she strangely could not remember even walking there or how long she had been watching the action below. That lapse in time fueled her embarrassment as she flustered. Even if it was her sister, she did not want to be caught staring at the way her new captain had been performing in the yard.

Anna grinned widely and leaned back onto the railing, her cheek pressed impishly into her hand as she let out a few amused snickers. Her eyes were still on Elsa. "Not so angry about Yasha joining the Royal Guard now, are we? Enjoying the uniform a little more than you thought?" she teased, her face growing devilishly amused, "Or maybe its the lack of uniform today?"

Elsa blushed even more and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to ignore her insinuations. "Don't be absurd. I'm still against the whole idea. I mean, he's a prince for crying out loud. Why does he have to do something so silly and adolescent as roll around in the dirt with a bunch of other men?" she complained, her eyes falling back to the subject of their conversation. It was still difficult to accept his decision, though watching his muscles flexing and his skin beaded with sweat did have a bewitching effect on her. The way the smudges of dust clung to his face and how he reached up with the back of his hand to wipe them away began to thaw her frigid response, and she began to lose herself in the fantasy once more.

Secretly, she could have watched him under the sun all day.

Anna was oblivious to her renewed attention and was watching as well, though her mood was far lighter and more amused. "Oh, come on. It's not so bad. I think he looks kind of happy rolling around in the dirt with a bunch of other men," she replied, and then her face twisted slightly at that thought.

"That's kind of weird, actually."

Elsa managed to break from her trance again and sighed heavily, using the subject to distract her from him and rubbing her temple forcefully. "This is all the Regent's doing. He has Yasha convinced that the only way the rest of the kingdom would accept him is if he proves that he's not just some homeless prince or some criminal that kidnapped you," she lamented, frowning as she felt how much this made her head throb, though it was nothing compared to what the tragic situation did to her heart. "I just don't understand why this is so hard."

Anna was watching her and smiled lovingly as she bumped into her again, disturbing her melancholy as only a sister could. "Cheer up," she said, then drew her attention down to ruckus below, most specifically to the man that was at the center of everyone's attention. "That guy is stubborn, moody and probably the biggest drama queen this side of the Southern Seas. I mean, sometimes I don't even know what he's talking about. It's like he's practicing for a play or something." The assessment drew a short laugh from Elsa, and Anna stayed close to her, keeping her focused on what was in front of her.

"But everything he's doing, he's doing it for you. I mean, if he's willing to stop being a prince just so he can be with you, I think that's super romantic. Don't you?"

Elsa looked to her with lingering doubts, wondering just where this bumpy path would lead them, but eventually wrapped her hands around Anna's and let out a long, defeated sigh, finding that her sister had the greatest knack for making her feel better. Her relationship with Yasha had been chaotic since he joined the Royal Guard, with his new duties making him impossible to find without exhaustion racking his entire body, but hearing Anna remind her of the lengths he was willing to go to make their love work, she suddenly felt slightly guilty.

She renewed her oath to find the strength to try just as hard as he was. "You're right," she said, nodding, then putting her eyes back on the focus of her heart. "Sometimes I just feel like I'm making him sacrifice so much when he shouldn't have to."

Anna smiled and squeezed her hands, if only to remind her that even though love was an operose duet, she was always there to add a layer of harmony to them. "Try not to worry so much. It'll all work out. Somehow," she replied and shrugged to the impetus of fate. It was ironic that a prince had to stop being a prince in order to earn the right to court the queen, but the world often defied convention and demanded things from them that did not follow any script. The story of the romance between Elsa and Yasha was laid upon this foundation, for from the moment they had met their relationship had never followed the storybook lines of love and tradition, instead being forged in fire and ice, tempered by tragedy and pain, then cherished as something that was not simply given to them, but earned.

For her part, Anna was encouraged by the dynamic foundation of their romance.

Elsa reluctantly allowed herself to be consoled, but Anna's attention was soon broken as she looked down and saw something that was going to make the next few minutes a bit explosive down on the grounds, grinding her playful and protective mood to a halt. She leaned heavily on the rail and grimaced at the scene that was unfolding far below. "Oh boy, that's not a good thing," she remarked and Elsa's face paled as she followed her eyes to the grounds below.

"Well, isn't this a quaint little scene," Johann called as he approached Yasha's group, his uniform sparkling in the sun overhead and two of his own men following close behind him. The interruption made a hush fall over the yard and Yasha turned from his demonstration, bristling at the sight of the other captain, though he tried to remain calm and face them. He was not oblivious to the fact that the two men with him were the same two had roughly abducted him before, and that they still wore the same brutish smiles that lingered in his memory and his scars.

His hand twitched at his side. "This is a surprise. What can we do for you, Captain Johann?" Yasha asked, trying to be as polite as his mood would allow.

Johann smirked as he stood before them all, looking over their dirty appearances and the fact that even men from Arendelle were involved in learning these unorthodox ways of close combat. Once more, he found himself completely baffled as to why his father had made this man a captain of the Guard and why he now had to stand on equal ground with him, though he was confident that now that he him in his world, he would make sure to use it to his advantage. It was simply matter of adapting to the situation. "Oh, I was just curious as to what you were teaching these men. It appears like nothing more than trying to wrestle livestock on a farm," he replied, fixing his gloves and giving his men a devious grin before slowly moving his eyes back to Yasha. "Are you trying to turn these men into soldiers or livestock, _Captain_ Yasha?"

The vicious tone he spoke when calling him by his title made even the guards from Arendelle fluster.

Yasha felt his blood boiling, though he slowly let out a breath and kept his eyes firmly on him. While he had encountered Johann a few times since being appointed, it was always in a formal setting or in the presence of Baron Wingate or Regent Stenson, where the young princeling's manners were always polished and restrained. As he was once more seeing the man's true nature, Yasha found himself wanting to grind his smiling face into the dirt. "Perhaps the good captain would like to participate and determine that for himself," he suggested, baiting him with his harsh glare and biting tone. His eyes became darker as he mirrored the look on his face when he had faced him down before.

"I would be happy to instruct you once more."

Johann's smile diminished as he was reminded of the incident. Some of the bitter shame came back to him and he suddenly wanted to accept the offer, just to get a chance to pummel this man with his bare hands. It seemed like the easiest way to deal with him, however he already had a plan in mind and would not be distracted again. "Tempting, but I have a better idea," he replied, holding his hand out to his side. One of his men placed a sheathed sword in it and Johann's grin spread wildly across his face, glimmering wickedly with foul intentions. "A captain of the Royal Guard doesn't brawl along the battlefield like some common thug. We demonstrate ourselves with the sword," he said, then tossed the sword through the air to Yasha, who caught it with a look of surprise on his face. Johann enjoyed that expression. "You've been so generous as to teach the guards from Arendelle how you fight in Fria. Why don't you allow me to return the favor?" His hand was clawed anxiously over the hilt of his own sword at his side and his eyes were taunting Yasha with every ounce of viciousness they had.

A hush dominated the yard.

"Johann!" cried a voice from above and all eyes looked up to Queen Elsa, who was glaring harshly down at him with pure anger in her face. It was obvious she was not at all amused by the challenge, or the game, and she was hanging over the railing as much as modesty would allow.

"Oh, good morning, your Highness," he said innocently, looking up to her with a slight bow, obviously deflecting her mood by the practiced tone in his voice, "I didn't see you up there."

His proclaimed ignorance to her presence only made her angrier and her hands clenched on the railing tightly. "I do not approve of two of my captains drawing swords against one another! This behavior is completely…" she yelled at him, though he was treading a thin line of disrespect by abruptly interrupting her.

"Forgive me, Queen Elsa, but I merely wish to have a lesson in swordplay with my fellow captain. No one should be harmed, as anyone appointed in the protection of the Queen should be able to handle a simple game," he said, then slowly looked back to Yasha with a devious smile.

"Don't you agree, _Captain_?"

Yasha was glaring harshly at him and feeling the weight of the sword in his hand. It was a weapon he did not handle often, preferring the speed and subtly of a dagger, but being taunted in front of Elsa was making his usually calm demeanor melt away and he was finding the unfriendly weight less and less offensive, as if the strange blade was suddenly exactly what he need to solve all of his life's problems.

Scoffing loudly, he suddenly tore the sword from its sheath, fully intent on giving Johann another lesson in underestimating him. He would not let Elsa or anyone else see him yield to this insolent snake.

Johann's smile spread further, finding him moving exactly as he had hoped. "Can I assume you're accepting then?" he said poisonously as he slowly drew his sword and his two men stepped back to give them room.

Yasha tried to get himself under control and struggled with the feel of the sword in his hand, though his eyes were set and his muscles tense. His instincts were screaming at him that this was a bad idea, but his heart would not listen, and neither would his hand. Once more, he found it difficult to govern his heart when Elsa was around. Her influence shattered his usual demeanor, and turned him into a rabid beast that would do anything to be the partner he imagined she needed, regardless of what she might say on the matter. "Whenever you wish to begin," he replied, taking a very unusual stance with the sword and keeping the sheath of the sword in his free hand. By now, the entire training area had gathered to watch the two captains face off against one another, a product of the endless rumors that grew from the dynamic of Yasha's infamy and Johann's entitled destiny, with Elsa and Anna anxiously watching from above.

Johann was standing in a traditional stance, his sword leveled professionally before him. As he had always excelled in swordplay from the finest teachers in any of the lands around Arendelle, he was far more confident in his chances now than when he had Yasha chained in front of him. It was the entire reason he had thought up this little duel.

As he stared at his rival's stance and the way his sword hung in his hand, he smirked heavily, assessing his rival and dissecting the entire moment for the advantages it would give him. "_He still thinks he's holding a dagger," _he thought, then gave a passing glance to the sheath in his other hand.

"_And that will make things more interesting."_

Without warning, Johann suddenly lunged at him with frightening speed and slashed without any consideration of safety. Even Yasha was startled by the ferocity of his strike and was only barely able to deflect it with his own blade, which sang out loudly into the hushed yard. Without a moment's hesitation, Johann continued to attack, striking at his rival as if they were on a true battlefield, because to him, it was, the most important battlefield he could imagine. It was a battlefield of pride and the stakes were a lifetime of love and expectation. Their swords were crying in the morning sun and their feet scuffled through the dust ground as everyone was hushed in anticipation, watching as the son of the Regent faced off against the fiery prince of Fria, as if this match had been forged by the gods themselves and held the very future of Arendelle in every desperate blow.

Back and forth they went, with Yasha falling victim to his opponent's pace. For a moment, Johann was impressed that he was able to parry all of his attacks, for no one he had drawn his sword against had ever given this much resistance, though he soon wanted to make more of a statement with the chance he had been given. It was not often he had the perfect opportunity to grab the destiny he had always seen in his dreams.

He also wanted to use the chance to show everyone who was the superior man.

With an impressive display of footwork, Johann skillfully made a riposte to one of Yasha's attempts to attack and his blade cut across Yasha's shoulder, slicing open his shirt and sending a speckling of blood across the white cloth. The wounded captain leapt back, grunting as he pressed the clutched hilt of his sword across the wound. He was glaring back intensely, panting under the effort he was needing to defend himself from Johann's deft blade. He had rarely met anyone so skilled with a sword, and was suddenly grateful he had kept the sword sheathed when they had met so intimately in that dark room in the castle, though his thoughts of the past were brief as letting his mind wander for even a moment would allow him to fall victim to another of Johann's pointed strikes.

Truthfully and bitterly, he had been overwhelmed by Johann's skill.

Johann was smiling widely and enjoying his dominance over his rival, reveling in the chance to draw blood. This little exercise was turning out to be exactly what he needed for his bruised ego and could barely contain his giddiness.

Elsa was not nearly as amused. "That's enough, Johann!" she cried, looking to the red on Yasha's shirt with panic in her eyes. Her fingers were gnarled into the stone railing and she had been fighting the urge to break them apart with a carefully placed burst of magic, yet buried in her chest was a repulsion at the idea of Yasha once more suffering the grasp of her ice, as the image of him being crushed before her still haunted her dreams.

This entire display of men's tempers had bothered her and in lieu of her magic, she threw her authority across the yard. "You will stop at once!" she commanded fiercely.

Johann did not acknowledge her command, though a smile continued to play across his face, as if this was also part of his designs. He kept looking at Yasha viciously. "You can yield, if you wish," he said darkly, lowering his sword to signal that he would comply with her demands as any good captain would, even as his eyes were goading his rival into disobeying.

Yasha's blood was on fire and he suddenly tore his hand away from the gash, snarling as he lunged towards Johann to wipe the disgusting smile from his face. Now simply defending himself, the Regent's son parried the strike easily, though the subsequent assault that followed surprised him for its speed and intensity. Yasha's skill with the sword was barely average by Johann's assessment, but his movements were so quick and precise that it almost made up for the lack of technique. It was amusing to him that he could be so inept with the sword, as any true prince should have had a lifetime of study to wield the noblest of weapons. He could parry him with only minimal effort and was merely playing the role of the hero in the yard, one that suffered the angry wrath of the criminal before him.

As much as he wanted to embellish his role further, his complacency was suddenly rocked as he felt something strike his sword arm and send a jolt of pain through his bicep, making him grunt loudly and focus back on the fight. Using the sheath, Yasha had slashed a painful welt across his arm and Johann instantly realized that even in his offhand, the sheath was far closer to a dagger in weight, and that Yasha was handling it with such skill that he could no longer afford to play around.

If he gave him any more time, the fiery prince would adapt to using the sword and sheath together and turn the tide of the fight against him.

As Yasha tried to land a few more wild blows amidst the Queen's wailing objections, Johann suddenly stopped toying with him and made a powerful upward strike, sending a loud, wailing note resounding throughout the air. Several feet from them, Yasha's sword went sprawling into the dirt and a gasp rippled through the crowd. The tip of Johann's singing blade was at Yasha's throat and the two of them exchanged such fevered glances that the rest of the world did not seem to exist for a moment.

In that moment, all that existed was the match.

"Yasha!" Elsa cried from high above, but it did not draw the blade away from him.

Panting now as well, Johann felt the rush of pure ecstasy at defeating him in front of everyone, especially as he had obviously been trying to comply with the Queen's orders. Even the defiant look in his rival's eyes did not diminish his high and he touched the sharp tip of the blade against Yasha's skin, feeling its resistance and the pulse that pounded beneath. It was all he could do to keep from pushing further. "Remember this," he hissed potently, taking another moment to enjoy the look of defeat on his face, then slowly pulled his heated blade from Yasha's heaving throat. Elegantly turning his back from the defeated man, Johann took a deep breath as he faced the Queen politely and saluted her with his sword, confident he had appeared to do everything he could to follow her commands, before then marching from the grounds quickly and sliding his victorious blade back into its scabbard. He could already hear as the other men had gone to Yasha and were fawning over his wound, though he cared little for it.

Instead, Johann's escort followed him out of the area and were gloating loudly at the way their captain had won. "See? I told you that fool was no match for our captain," the first barked and elbowed the second, then cast a fond glance onto the man who walked silently before them. "Now everyone knows who's the best when it comes to the Royal Guard. Even the Queen was there to see it!" The second of the guards bellowed out a gritty laugh and agreed, lathering compliments onto their commander as well and sharing in the victorious aura that bled from him.

Amidst their ballyhoo Johann suddenly stopped, looking forward into the garden with a strangely annoyed expression. Sweat was still beading from his brow and his heart was still racing in his chest from the match, showing while he had been in command of the pace, it had not been the simple victory he had expected. He continued to play it over and over in his mind, analyzing it for future reference, when he might once more draw his blade against the prince.

His mood drew his men to a stuttering stop as well. "What's wrong, Captain?" the second man asked, though the captain did not respond.

He was running his hand over the welt on his arm and thinking about how Yasha had moved with the sheath, clenching his jaw in revelation. "_He was able to defend himself with a weapon he was unfamiliar with and still strike me with that sheath. Had it been a dagger, I would have lost the use of my arm," _he thought silently, then realized that while he had the definitely advantage over him when it came to swords, he did not want to consider his chances against Yasha's speed and skill coupled with that black-bladed dagger he carried.

His eyes narrowed angrily.

"_That man is more dangerous than I thought."_

"Captain?" the guard repeated, though Johann suddenly dropped his hands to his sides and continued to walk forcefully forward, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm and eager to consider his next strategy. He had won the day, but there was still much to do if he was going to reclaim his rightful destiny and win the hand of the Queen, with no time to worry about insignificant wounds.

"It's nothing. Let's go."


	7. Prevailing Storms

**VII**

Prevailing Storms

The rain was thundering down on Arendelle in the late spring, soaking the land and moving mountains while the population took sanctuary within homes and inns. Such downpours were not uncommon for the time of year, though this storm seemed heavier than usual and blanketed the countryside in a frigid humidity that added to the oppression of the rain. Amidst the dank gray of the misty air, the lights of the town and castle perforated the gloom, offering a beacon of refuge from the relentless wind and rain to anyone who needed it, although there were those that did not enjoy the offer and stood out in the storm, bound by schedule or by duty and forced to endure the unending assault of the merciless tears of life.

Standing far from Arendelle but still within sight of its glow, Yasha lingered out in the rain even as most of his men had erected shelters and were trying to dry themselves around defiantly burning campfires. The Captain did not join them, but rather stood with the rain pounding his shoulders, his coat and his hat, which was slung low across his brow in an effort to keep the water from running into his eyes. Those eyes seemed to pierce the storm and rested distantly on the murky outline of the castle and the faint lights in the windows. His lips were pursed in a pensive frown and his eyes were about the only part of him that was not being soaked by the storm, though he would not relent and take shelter, for to move would mean taking the castle from his sight, even though it was not the brick and mortar that captured his mood, but rather something far more precious within.

To the certain disbelief of his men, he swore he could make out the light in Elsa's room, and he would not take his eyes from it.

Yasha had now been a captain of the guard for many months, suffering the trials that came with it and never finding the time to do what his heart most desired. In spite of the hope it once offered, he had come no closer to finding those responsible for assaulting his people, though now that he felt the pulse of the world he had been able to drastically cut back the frequency of the attacks. That victory might have been enough had it not come at such a price. Due to exhaustion or agenda, he had not spent any meaningful amount of time with Elsa, something that had continued to weigh heavily on his heart, especially when he stood within eyeshot of the castle but could not approach. Due to Anna's appeals and other subtle methods, he was keenly aware how much their separation was affecting Elsa as well, though even as he had sworn to do anything to be with her, he found that neglecting his duty, even in secret, was something he could not allow even if it meant being with her for a very short time.

Bitterly, he wondered if his honor meant more to him that her affection.

"This is so humiliating. If I'd have known it was going to rain, I'd have stayed in the castle, even if it meant I had to deal with that frosty snowball," wailed a tiny voice that cut through the percussion of the storm. It was accompanied by a glowering glow within a glass lantern, where a small figure of flame was perched indignantly on an empty base that usually held a wick and oil channel, though was now nothing more than a seat within a prism of glass and solder. Sid was angrily tapping her foot at the bottom of the lantern and glaring out into the violent weather, seeing the water bead against the glass wall that protected her and dismissing its critical role in light of the cell it formed around her. What aggravated her even worse was that Yasha did not appear to be paying attention to her complaints, and that might had been the biggest sin of all.

"Are you even listening to me, Yasha?" she cried at him, standing in frustration and letting the flames at her head lick at the top of the lantern.

"I hear you just fine, Sid," he replied, the water cascading from the brim of his hat and spreading like curtains across his field of vision. Although the drumming of the rain across him should have drowned out all other sounds, he found it difficult to ever avoid the shrill tone in her voice when she was in a bad mood. "While I am sympathetic to your plight," he continued, looking from the fiery sprite and back towards the distant castle, "sometimes we must dwell in the cage around us in order to endure the storm."

The depth of his words escaped her as she continued to grumble about being contained in such a tight place, unable to fly free and embrace her true nature. In truth, her mood was just an extension of the ongoing attitude she had for his current state of mind, something that continued to leave the air volatile between them. This mood was particularly potent as the two of them were connected at a level unprecedented even by the standards of his union with Elsa. The sprite knew all of his secrets, even those he kept from the object of his heart. "Well, I don't want to stay in any stupid cage to endure any stupid storm. I want to be out of the storm! Why can't we just go back to the castle, where it's warm and dry?" she demanded petulantly.

Yasha sighed. "This is becoming an old discussion, Sid. I no longer reside in the castle. I am a captain of the Guard. I go where I am ordered," he replied heavily.

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me of all the stupid things you've been doing since we came to this place," she groaned, slumping back on the base and kicking her feet up on the glass as she fumed at their current place in the world. "You're a prince, not some gritty soldier that stands out in the rain or tromps around in the mud. You should be reading poetry around a warm fire or practicing how to walk correctly or some other stupid thing princes do around here." Her petty thoughts were reflective on the things she wanted for him and the pride she had for being part of him. This did not even begin to touch on the subject of which he was the most sensitive and she was the most privy.

"And you have the FireHeart now. It should be used for something better than keeping up a bunch of fires for this smelly bunch of guys."

At the mention of the ancient orb, Yasha quickly looked back to see if anyone had been around to overhear her, a glimmer of orange sparkling through his eyes, though he found that most of his men were still huddled around the fires and marveling at how neither the wind nor the rain could dim them. Some called it the devil's luck, but no one but Sid and Yasha knew the truth. These fires burned magically, albeit secretly. They endured the raging storm by the will of Yasha alone.

"You should not speak of that when others may overhear," he warned, looking to the sprite with glaring eyes. He had effectively kept it a secret for all of this time simply because he was guarded about discussing it, not to mention the fact that it was a delicate subject for him and rarely filled him with the same pride that Sid showed at its mention. "And you know my feelings on the matter. I am still unconvinced it should be used for anything. I did not endure a lifetime of oppression from it just to become an oppressor myself."

Sid sighed and leaned her head against the glass, staring at him. His concept of honor was complicated even for her and it usually came off more as stubbornness than anything. Had it been anyone else, she would have been shocked when he did not flaunt the powers of the FireHeart and the rightful status he had as the son of King Nazir, but instead his decision to hide that awesome power and run away from his lineage only reassured her that even when the world had been shaken and turned upside down, Yasha would always be Yasha.

It was comforting, but aggravating.

"This is all that snow hussy's fault. Her and her stupid bait of a sister," she groaned, drawing a sharp glance from him. While she was perhaps the only one who could get away with calling Elsa and Anna such names in front of him, it was always a weighted risk, like lighting a match in a dark room full of gunpowder. Even though she knew there were times when she should not push him with her regard for the sisters, her mood was foul enough at the moment to defy his warning glance. "You've thrown away everything because of them. Your magic. Your bloodline. Even that nice, plush room we had with that super-comfortable fireplace! And for what? To stomp around in the rain and keep these people safe from bears and bandits? You don't even care about these people! Why should you do so much for them?"

"I care about Elsa and Anna. It is enough," he replied coldly, looking back to the distant town and wiping the rain from his face. There was no use denying how he truly felt to Sid, for she was the only one he could not lie to. His fierce loyalty to the people of Fria and the way the nobility in Arendelle reacted so callously to the attacks on them had numbed Yasha to the idea of serving Elsa's people as fervently as he did his own, something that fueled his reputation as someone who acted coldly to anyone who was not from Fria or part of the royal family. That reputation did not bother him in the slightest, but it did further the dissension between him and the Queen, though he was far too stubborn to see the fault in his behavior.

For him, it was enough to serve Arendelle by serving Elsa. He did not feel obliged to care about anything else.

"Captain?" said a voice, breaking apart the isolation that Yasha and Sid wallowed in.

Turning to the invader, they found a large soldier braving the rain, his uniform soaked and his bare head exposed to the drumming rage of the storm. Even in the deluge, Yasha recognized him by his sheer size and the unassuming softness in his voice, turning to him and feeling a bit offended by his presence. After all, he was representative of everything he and Sid had been talking about – a man of Arendelle and an outsider to their confessions. "What is it, Thias?" he replied, as cold to him as was the rain.

The large man moved closer with the acknowledgment and carried something in his hand. It was a tin cup and he covered the top of the cup with his other hand to keep the rain out. Yasha could see wisps of steam rising between the small gaps in his fingers and lifted his eyes up to the man, eager to hear his report and then send him away. Thias, the large man who had been among the first to learn of Yasha's martial prowess had no such report to give, but rather extended the cup to his captain and continued to fight the urge to wince at the heat biting at his skin. "Something warm for you to drink. Hey Sid," he said, nodding his head to the small sprite as she glowered in the confines of her glass sanctuary.

"Yo," she replied casually, flicking a fiery hand out at him.

As Yasha took the cup from him, he noticed the way the man tried to shake off the heat from the liquid and struggled with the pain from being burned by the steam, finding it noteworthy that he had never felt that same pain and finding it indicative of just how different he was from those that lived in Elsa's kingdom. Even now, he could feel the heat coming from the tin cup and imagined it should have burned him just as it did Thias, yet there was no pain and he lost himself in the dark liquid as it was assaulted by large drops of rain, making it thrash and jump from the cup and fall to the ground no differently than the rain that uprooted it.

"Thank you, Thias," he replied, though he did not drink and continued to stare into the struggle of the steaming black sea against the unending siege of rain.

The large man did not retreat immediately. His attention lingered on the fire sprite for a moment, still fascinated at how such a creature could exist but also thinking on how she had become a sort of mascot for the squad. Her disposition was very much in contrast to his captain's and like most of the others, he thought her presence brought yet another level of distinction for their group, making him feel proud at being under the command of this extraordinary man. As his attention went back to his captain, he found him staring off at the castle once more and followed his eyes, seeing the rough outline of the spires and dim lights in the dark. He found it remarkable it could even be seen in the storm. "It'd be a lot nicer in the castle right about now, eh Captain?" he remarked, thinking at how this man had given up a place there to stand out in the rain with the common soldiers.

It was another reason he felt proud to serve under him.

Yasha did not answer, but gazed pensively into the dark, as if the only thing that mattered to him was the light that lingered just beyond his grasp. At the cold reaction, Thias figured it was best to leave him alone as he turned to leave, but Yasha's voice rising above the storm made him pause and look back. "Why did you join the Royal Guard, Thias?" the Captain asked, though his eyes had fallen to look despondently down to the cup of drowning heat.

It was a question he had not expected to hear. "Why did I join?" he repeated, wondering why he was asking but finding no other explanation. Thias thought a moment in the rain, rubbing his wet hair roughly. "My father, I guess. He served in the guard too, though he was lost on the same ship as the King. Come from a long line of guards, I do, and so I figured I'd do the same to honor him."

The reason made a strangely bitter frown cross Yasha's face and Thias thought that maybe he had made him angry somehow, though he was completely lost on why his reason could have offended him. Thinking about how to placate him, he decided that the easiest way to butter up his captain was to talk about the one thing he knew was close to his heart. "But now it's all for the Queen. What a lovely vision, isn't she? When I think about how we all have to work together in order to keep her safe, I just can't imagine myself doing anything else," he continued, looking to the castle again and feeling pride at his charge. "Not every man gets to serve the most beautiful, kind-hearted Queen in all of the lands, that's for sure."

As Thias looked on to the distant castle, Yasha had been watching him and the pride that bloomed in his chest. To hear the reverence these men had for Elsa made a pride of his own flower, for if only a select few could devote their lives to protecting her, it made the one allowed to love her seem like an impossibility.

It suddenly made him want to see her more than anything.

"Thank you, Thias. That will be all. Go back and get out of this foul rain. Tell the others we will continue our patrol in when the storm lets up," Yasha ordered.

The man stiffened at the orders and saluted him, both happy to officially be ordered out of the rain but also feeling a bit disappointed that his captain did not seem to want to chat, though that was not out of the ordinary for him. Yasha was notoriously short on smalltalk to anyone but the Queen or the Princess. "Yes, Captain," he replied and turned to head back to the others, though something made him stop in the mud and turn back to his solitary commander, seeing how his strong figure cut a lonely line through the rain and feeling like there was something he could do to help. "You're welcome to join us around the fire, Captain. Always," he added, thinking that even though an officer's tent was erected for him and offered far better accommodations than the ragged tarps of the enlisted men, maybe he would want to join the banter of his men and disperse this mood that had settled over him.

Yasha moved his eyes beyond the man and looked to the ruckus around the largest of the fires. The antics amused him for a moment and he slowly shifted his eyes back to the man who waited for his answer. "Perhaps later," he replied, strangely warmed by the offer but not feeling as if he would enjoy himself there. The large man smiled and saluted him once more, then turned and headed back to the others, where he was met with laughter at his soaked appearance and handed another hot cup to drink. Yasha watched a moment as they mingled, seeing the large man playfully use the shirt of another to dry his face, where he was met by a boisterous objection and a fairly rough punch to his shoulder. He realized that the man who was now sporting a cold, wet spot on his shirt was from Fria and that amongst the antics of those rowdy men, there were no lines between them anymore.

In that, there was hope against the bitter feelings he had been suffering as of late.

Turning back to the look at the castle, he lifted his cup to his lips and sipped at the liquid in his cup, finding it had become cold and diluted from the rain water. It tasted terrible and did not warm him. Regretful of wasting Thais's offering, he tossed the liquid to the mud and lowered the empty cup to his side, looking back to the distant castle and sighing against the drumroll of the rain. Sid had been keen to his mood and thought better about continuing her lecture, instead settling uncomfortably in her lantern and kicking her foot against the glass wherever a droplet of rain might appear, if only to pass the time. The both of them were trapped in their cages by necessity, able to see through the bars but not pass through them. To breach them would mean to threaten the things that composed them, and even though it was well within both of their powers to simply step outside, it was the bars themselves that kept the storm at bay, and forced them to accept that even a prison could be an asylum when all that defined it was the deference of one's heart.

* * *

After the rains had stopped and the forests were full of mists and shadows, a single rider moved quietly through the mud, clad in a heavy cloak and focused in purpose. It was a place far away from any village or town and where the wilderness was a feral place. Only a few animals had come out from their refuge from the storm and the horse and its rider felt like the only ones brave enough to travel the world, making the sound of puckering mud and running water the only accompaniment to their presence. The air was cool enough that barely visible puffs of vapor came from underneath the hood of the rider and the horse's snout, and the rider stiffly rode through the mists, one hand on the reins and the other resting carefully close to the hilt of his sword.

Coming across a clearing of stumps and fallen timber, the rider stopped, scanning the empty forest for its secrets. The unnatural silence drew the man's hand tightly across the hilt of his blade and he let out a few plumes of anxious breath, his green eyes focused on the mist before him and his mouth twisted into a nervous frown. "I know you're there. Come out slowly," he ordered into the mist, his sword ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

Silence answered him, but only for a moment. Soon, an army of gray figures began to appear in the peripherals of the mist, large hulking masses that reeked of murderous intent. None of them came close enough to show their features, but the rider could count far more than a dozen of the dark creatures. There were more of them than he anticipated, though he understood that their number did not matter, for he was in equal danger between a spread of ten or twenty men.

That danger did not deter him from coming.

"Well, if it isn't the little princeling come into the woods to play," growled a deep voice from the mist and came attached to the largest hulk of all, forming a great shadow before the rider and casting the form of a vicious bear into the grove. This man was the only one to come close enough to reveal himself and the rider tried to steady his horse against the pressure the bear brought. He was covered in muscles and scars, with a head of filthy brown hair fanned out behind him and flowing jaggedly into the bristly beard that covered most of his face. Like the others, he wore an array of animal skins, though he was the only to have the massive, stained jaws of a skinned bear head on his head, as if the animal were still trying to take its revenge for its death by trying to devour this man from the top down. On the bear's back was a massive, ornate axe that sat in stark contrast to his feral appearance, for it was plated with gold and silver, yet also showed scabs of black blood still worked into the places where even careful cleaning could not purge it, marring its otherwise brilliant appearance with reminders of its terrible servitude to this monstrous animal.

The rider tried to calm himself and his horse at the sight of him, though found he was not as prepared as he thought he would be to answer his vicious tone. "I didn't come to play, Volgard. I came to speak with you," the rider replied in a voice unable to mask the intimidation he felt, though just the fact that the man could enter into such danger and not run screaming was enough to amuse the large bear.

"Then speak, little princeling of Arendelle. We're waiting to hear what brings you so far from the safety of your castle," the man replied with a voice tainted by a foreign accent and brown eyes emphasizing the point about him being so far away from the safety of his fortress.

The rider hesitated a moment, the reached up and drew back his hood, revealing an uncharacteristic expression on Johann's face. It was a mixture of fear, indignation and command, as if a mixture of those things might somehow bring this brute in line. So far, it did not seem to be working. "I don't need the audience or the titles. I would speak to you alone, Volgard," he demanded, if only to try and find a better footing against this beast.

Volgard laughed in a voice that rumbled through the forest and looked around at the shadows in the mist. "What difference is there between the men you can see and ones you can't? And I'll call you anything I like, princeling, when you're standing in the halls of _my_ kingdom," he replied in an oppressive voice, and that amusement was echoed by the voices and laughter of the men all around them, something that convinced Johann that he was not bluffing when he claimed there were more men than he could see and that he was in no position to object to it, or anything else.

Taking a deep breath, Johann kept his hand on his sword and tried to keep his fears in check. "I've come to discuss your attacks on the caravans. I think we need to reconsider our agreement," he said, feeling sweat line his back despite the cool air all around him.

The bear considered his words for a moment, not looking amused any longer. "Do we?" he growled ominously.

"Things are progressing better than I hoped in the castle, but there have been complications concerning a particularly annoying nuisance of a man," Johann replied disdainfully, cursing under his breath that he was being forced to personally come into danger in order to put things back onto the right track.

The bear growled in the mist. "This foreign prince that became a soldier. The phoenix deprived of his flame. The man you cannot pry from the heart of your Queen," he said with equal parts insult and annoyance at how effective the subject was at foiling his raids against the caravans.

Johann scowled at how informed the bear was, but also at how accurate his words found the mark. Had he known just how much of an obstacle Yasha would be to him and his quest to win over Elsa's heart and hand, he would have taken a more direct route in dealing with him, though ironically the same decision that made him vulnerable to Johann's plans was also the shield that protected him from any direct action, for a captain of the Royal Guard did not simply disappear without notice, especially one as infamous as the prince from Fria. "Yes, that one. The space between him and the Queen grows, but he gets closer to you each time you attack the caravans, and as such gets closer to me as well. He cannot discover the link between us, or this entire thing will have been for naught," he lamented, not able to hide the level of frustration in his eyes at Yasha's interference.

"Then we will take care of him on the next raid. There's no faster way to take the heart of a woman than by removing the heart of a man," the bear suggested darkly.

Johann's eyes narrowed on him. "You can't do that. If you were to kill a captain of the Guard, even one that comes from a ragged group of refugees, the entire barracks would comb the countryside for you and you'd go from being a nuisance that no one really cares about to someone I could no longer cover for," he warned, watching the look of anger come over the bear's face. He did not expect a beast to understand the finer details of the aristocracy or how one destroyed someone without killing them. He only expected him to go where needed and bite whoever was at the end of Johann's finger. "No, you can't simply hack through this with swords and axes. You have to give me time to deal with him in my own way, but I need you to stop the attacks until I do, especially as he's now gotten some of the merchants from Arendelle traveling in the caravans. The man is more cunning than I gave him credit for."

"I don't care who is in the caravans, or that this rival of yours comes nearer. I only care about what I can take and sell," Volgard sneered.

The disregard for his wishes made Johann bristle and grit his teeth at the volatile nature of the beast. "You won't endanger the citizens from Arendelle. That was the agreement. You will stop the attacks until I can deal with the problem, or I will consider our agreement void and you'll soon find a full contingent of guards with every caravan from here on out."

The order made the bear bristle and growl, something that Johann's horse stir beneath him. "I'm not a patient man, princeling, and I don't take orders from bratty kids who can't even wipe their own backsides. The _only_ reason I've played with you so far is because of how well I've been compensated for this little agreement, but if I don't raid the caravans, I don't get my payment. If I don't get my payment, then I have to find other ways to be paid," he said in a heavy tone that struck Johann for its venom.

He did not like that insinuation. "What are you getting at?" he asked sharply.

"As you said, if anyone were to find out about our agreement, everything you've earned would go up in smoke. You might even find yourself locked in a pretty little cell somewhere in the castle, never to see that steamy little Queen of yours again. Wouldn't that be a shame?" he suggestion with a yellow grin piercing his wiry beard.

Johann felt his heart race and his hand tighten around the hilt of his sword. This was one of the dangers made real of his dealings with such a wild beast, though he had been certain enough the spoils of the raids were enough to keep him satisfied. Now that he was threatening to reveal Johann's efforts to shield the bandits from the attention of the Royal Guard, he was coming to realize that he really had no leverage to keep the beast at bay and that this game he had been playing could easily backfire on him. "You'd be a fool to try. The word of a criminal and a thief cannot be weighed against the word of a captain of the guard and the son of the Regent, and I'm very sure I could no longer keep the Royal Guard from finding that cottage you've holed up in. And wouldn't _that_ be a shame?" he replied, not willing to be blackmailed by this animal even when he was at his complete mercy.

Regardless of his shady dealings, he had his pride and would not sell that for any price.

Volgard was heaving before him, his breath coming out in raspy grunts as he tried to control his anger toward the young man. Like Johann, he was not getting exactly what he wanted from this agreement, though it had secretly made him richer than he had ever imagined. However, that was not enough for him, especially when he knew that there were far more valuable treasures in the castle itself that made his current loot look like table scraps. Despite his confession, he sometimes knew when to be patient in order to take the bigger purse, and he suddenly found himself willing to let the young man's insolence slide as he set his sights on a far bigger prize. "All right, princeling. You've made your point. Go back to your castle. Deal with this rival of yours, but be warned that beasts don't linger in the mist forever. If you neglect them long enough, they'll come out when you least expect it," he warned, relaxing his posture much to the surprise of his men and Johann both.

The young captain, feeling he finally had won the battle, relaxed as well and reined his horse back, keeping his eyes on the beast as long as he dared, then quickly spurred the animal away into the mists with every expectation of catching an arrow in the back, yet finding that true to his word, Volgard simply let him leave and continue his plan to destroy Yasha and win Elsa.

In the clearing, another of the beasts approached the bear, not hiding his disgust at the man's submission to the demands of the young captain. "You can't be serious, Vol. What do you expect us to do while he dances around the castle with that frosty wench of his? The men want coin, not empty promises! You haven't even cut us in on the loot from the old man!" he rallied, finding that if a snotty brat from a castle could push around the bear, a seasoned murdered should be able to do very well for himself.

Suddenly, a great paw reached out and snatched the man by his throat, making him hack loudly and grasp frantically at the thick forearm of the beast, finding that as his air supply was choked from him, he could barely focus on the devilish smile on the beast's face. He could not even draw a weapon. Trying to hack out his cry for mercy, the man fell to his knees and did all he could to break free from the paw, though it was all in vain as the world slipped into a red haze around him and he felt everything fade to black.

The last thing he would ever see was the vicious smile of the leader of Kobold, Volgard the Bear.

"Jann!" the bear roared and tossed the dead man to the ground at his feet, already beyond what meaning that death had for him. None of the other shadows stirred at the death of the man except for a single shadow that appeared next to the bear, ignoring the body and looking calmly at the beast as if this were just another part of their dangerous occupation. Volgard set his eyes upon him and let a great bellowing laughter fill the forest once more.

"I want you to take what you need from the lodge and find me a hundred more men, I don't care where you get them. Make sure they're as ready for ice and snow as they are arrows and spears," he snarled, taking the mammoth axe from his back and looking over the countless scars and scabs that marked its fouled appearance. While his mind furiously worked over the details of his plan, he thought of how lightly he was being taken, as if anyone one could lull a bear with sweet talk and shiny trinkets. Sometimes, a bear wanted something far more primal and soft to the touch.

"Noblemen. Aristocrats. Bah! I've had enough dealing with them and the way they slither around to try and sneak up on what they want. We've more than enough to move forward for the real hoard. The pox on all ferret-headed princelings! We know how to get what we want, don't we boys?"

"We just take it."

* * *

Upon entering his room, Johann threw his muddy cloak onto the couch angrily as he went over his meeting with the bear in his mind, unsure why he felt so heated despite accomplishing everything he set out to do. With the bandits laying low for a while, he could capitalize on this distance that had formed between Elsa and her beloved ex-prince, using the his carefully crafted efforts to prey on Yasha's obvious prejudice for his people to continue driving them apart until not even Elsa could ignore the disdain he had for the people of Arendelle. While the man's popularity among the troops was strong, he was despised among the nobility and that mistrust bled like poison through the royal court, forcing the Queen to choose between her position and her heart, something that would ultimately bring her sponsorship of him to a breaking point and finally shatter the fragile connection they shared. Everything seemed to be going in his favor and the son of the Regent stood poised to win all that he wanted as he withdrew the proud sword from his belt and threw it indignantly onto the floor.

But as he stood pushing his hands back through his sweaty hair, Johann's breath hissed as he forced a tired breath between his teeth and stared at the mud on his boots, his eyes heavy and his lips tight. Even with the very world at his fingers, he was not happy, nor proud of his bartered position.

If anything, it was the exact opposite.

"You appear quite troubled," said a voice in his room and Johann nearly jumped from his skin, whirling around with a hand finding the empty space where his sword had just been. After the dealings with the bandits, he was jumpy and irritated, so the intrusion was unwelcome until he found the source of the voice sitting causally in the dark, holding a smoldering cigar and a nearly empty glass of bronze liquid in his hands.

It was obvious the Regent had been waiting for his return.

"F-Father? I wouldn't expect you to be out so late," Johann stuttered, trying to straighten at the sight of his revered father and trying to hide the annoyance in his face.

The Regent was watching his every move. "I would say the same to you, Johann. The head of the watch reported that you'd gone for a ride this morning and only recently returned. It's not like you to take such long rides unescorted," he replied, idly taking a puff on his cigar and analyzing every answer his exhausted son would offer.

Johann winced. His father was the last person he wanted to find out about his dealings with the bear, though he was confident he had covered his tracks and left no avenue for its discovery. No one knew about his agreement with Volgard, not even those guards he trusted most. Even his father's vigilant grasp on the kingdom could have clued him into the details of his meeting, so the younger man began to play off the disappearance as nothing more than fodder for the gossip hounds. "Please, Father, must you pry into every aspect of your son's life?" he remarked, feigning amusement where none existed and casually strolling into his room. He ended up leaning against a desk heavily and crossing his arms over his chest, smiling widely and his eyes glimmering mischievously as he began his performance. "Did you know there's a town to the north where they've the most beautiful women? Voldine, I believe they call it. The butchers, the farmers, even the magistrate. Nothing but beautiful women. They say you can spend an entire day there and come home more exhausted than you even thought imaginable, but bearing a smile that lasts a week. Well, that's what they say at least," he continued, coyly playing as if this were all hearsay and no one of their stature would ever be caught partaking in such a thing, though he was certain the Regent would catch his meaning and embrace his alibi, especially as the revered statesman was notoriously promiscuous in his youth.

The old man could not mask the smile that played at the corners of his lips, though he was equally coy as he puffed on his cigar and filled the room with a heavy, overbearing scent. "Is that what my son does on days away from the Guard? Indulge in idle fornication in a village of vixens and harpies. I'm not sure the Queen would appreciate such behavior from a man that seeks to be her suitor," he remarked, raising his brows at him to see how he parried the blow.

"Ah, but what the Queen doesn't know won't hurt her. Besides, isn't it best to indulge in such behavior _before_ one claims the heart of the Queen, and not after? I'm quite sure Mother would have agreed with me on that," he replied, finding that these petty word exchanges were far more to his taste than growling at wild animals in the woods.

Again, the Regent was amused at his son. "That she would have, bless her eternal soul," he agreed, finding that the boy was certainly able to play these games with no real difficultly, though it was the game of another kind that drew his concerns and made his smile fade as he carefully looked over his dying cigar. "And how was the journey to this Voldine of yours? Did you come across any wild animals along the way?" he asked, inspecting the glowing embers and letting his eyes slowly shift to notice the paling expression his son wore.

"A bear, perhaps?"

Johann stared at his father in utter disbelief. There was no conceivable way he would know about the meeting with Volgard, yet his choice of words left no reason to doubt that he knew of the dealings Johann had with the infamous thug, and that his insidious way of broaching the subject was far more fearsome than simply bursting forth with anger and admonishments. "Bears, Father? I'm...not sure what you mean by..." he began, showing his obvious anxiety over the question and that he completely understood its significance.

"Johann," the Regent interjected, his voice dominating the room and bringing the young man's excuses to a grinding halt. "Do you know how best to deal with wild animals?" His eyes slowly moved back to the meaningless cigar while addressing a matter far more important. His son had no answer. "They're most valuable when they're muzzled, and most dangerous when they're not. Whether they have fangs or claws or fur so thick that not even a spear could pierce them, as long as you keep them in a state in which you control them, or at least deny them the knowledge that you control them, they will never turn their fangs against you. Only then will those fangs fail to reach you and you may command them as you will. Do you understand?"

In the dim light of Johann's room, the Regent's eyes were glowing in the light of the dying fires of tobacco and exotic spices.

There were not many moments when his father truly frightened him, yet strangely Johann had never felt as fearful of the potency of the man as he did at that moment. He spoke as if he carried the very world in his pocket and that nothing that transpired was out of his control. A tremor surged through the young man and he could not even grasp the depth of his father's words, as if he spoke a completely different language and was trying to teach him things that were far beyond his comprehension. He had no idea what his father knew and what his father was trying to say. All he knew was he could never match the utter dominance he had over the air in a room, and that failing made the proud, young man falter against the pressure that was the Regent of Arendelle.

"Yes, Father," he said, lying as much as he was telling the truth. On this unstable ground, he had no idea how to defend himself from the allegations of his father's eyes, yet maddeningly found not even the strength to try. Even more than his rival Yasha, he found himself unable to defeat this mountain of a man, smothered by his presence and his infinite grip in the world around him. Merely trying felt foolish, and he could nothing more than bow his head and submit to the juggernaut that was his father.

"Mm," the Regent grunted, appeased by his son's submission and eagerly drinking the last of his drink, then letting the glass chime loudly as he set it upon the side table, "Now then, have a seat, boy. I didn't come here to speak you of bears and monsters, but of something far more important." Intrigued and still shaken, Johann took the seat across from the old man and tried to make himself comfortable, though in the current atmosphere that seemed utterly impossible. The best he could do was fully hide the absolute interest he had in the tone in his father's voice, one that spoke of the currents of the world and the place he had among them.

"Let's talk about your future," the Regent said, leaning forward to bring his son into the role that he had prepared for him.


	8. Sudden Joys Have Sudden Endings

**VIII**

Sudden Joys Have Sudden Endings

Through the halls of the castle, Elsa's footsteps carried heavy echoes that reflected the harried sense of purpose she possessed in her flashing eyes, her red lips pursed tightly in the feelings of betrayal and anger she had burning within her chest. Those that witnessed her storming across the grounds had rarely seen her so worked up and noticed the cold air that followed her, making them wonder if they might soon see a repeat of the harrowing storms that had once glazed the kingdom with ice and snow. Everyone gave her a wide berth as she made her way directly towards the barracks of the Royal Guard.

As the fuming Queen headed towards the officer's hall, the guards on post there did best to try and ward her away, though even their efforts were reserved and they did not impede her as was expected of them. When faced with the fury in her eyes, they did not stop her from charging against the looming doors that were closed tightly before her. Instead, they wisely stepped aside.

The doors to the meeting burst open and in stormed the Queen, shattering Regent Stenson's speech as all eyes moved to her. Her anger was obvious and her eyes were flying around the room, trying to locate the many objects of her intent. The first she found was Yasha, standing near the front of the gathering, wearing a weary expression on his face. Her eyes naturally lingered on him in a mixture of emotions, but soon Elsa's attention lurched from him and found Johann, a sight that made her eyes narrow considerably. The young man was at the center of the things and looking back to her with a sort of amused expression, as if he did not share the dread the others wore at offending the magically gifted Queen.

The look on his face only made her angrier.

As much as she wanted to do something about the impish grin on his face, she sought out Regent Stenson and locked her cold stare on him before continuing into the hall, her shoes thundering across the silent floor until she stood before them all, her hands clenched at her sides and the air drawing vaporous plumes of breath from all around her.

"I demand an explanation about Baron Wingate," she said sternly, her attention solely on the old noble.

The Regent, being interrupted in the proceedings, took a deep breath and settled his hands behind his back, looking very much annoyed by her presence but masking it as well as he ever had. While he had been certain of her reaction, he was surprised by how quickly news spread around the castle, making him marvel at how some parts of the world escaped even his seasoned expectations. The whispering walls of the castle were a terrifying machine, even to him. "I assure you, Your Highness, that I was just on my way to discuss that matter with you," he replied casually.

Elsa fumed. "You should have discussed it with me _before_ he stepped down. As Queen, I should be involved in any changes with the kingdom, especially when it comes to the one who will lead the Royal Guard. I shouldn't be the last person to hear of such things!" she said sharply, not sparing him any of her anger in spite of being in front of the ranks of her guards.

The Regent sighed once more, reminded of why she was still so young and feeling even more annoyed at being admonished in front of such a large crowd. "The Baron made the decision of his own accord, citing a few of his more recent failures as reason enough to pass down his mantle. And we most certainly didn't intend to sneak the good Baron out from under your nose with no explanation. Needless to say, Your Highness, it would have been negligent of me to speak of it without already having a successor. The Baron of the Guard is very important to the safety of the Queen and the Princess, if not Arendelle itself. We wisely shouldn't leave the position vacant for long, which is why we stand here now with all of the officers of the Guard. We are nominating your new Baron," he explained casually.

The revelation made Elsa's eyes instantly move to Yasha and her heart secretly fluttered in her chest, a reaction that was lost upon no one in the room. It was an aspect of the crisis that she had not considered, as any new Baron of the Guard was traditionally chosen from the standing ranks of captain, a position that Yasha now held. Instantly, she realized that this was exactly what she had been hoping for; a chance for Yasha to become a noble of Arendelle and be in a position where they could be open about their relationship without all of the restrictions they had found, and it was exactly what Yasha had alluded to when he explained the Regent's logic in offering him a place in the Royal Guard. She could not even mask the hopeful smile that dragged the edge of her lips apart as she looked at him, but suddenly the heated expression on his face warned her that things were not as perfect as she was hoping them to be and that he did not appreciate the opportunity as she did.

For as optimistic as she had been in looking at him, his eyes were far more poisonous as he stared forward at the young captain standing amidst the rest. His expression was contagious and she slowly looked back to the Regent, aware of the pit in her stomach and the weight coming down upon her heart.

She asked the question even fearfully knowing the response.

"Who do you nominate?"

The Regent smiled and gestured forward to the one who proudly stood right before her as a purported answer to all of her demands. "My son, Johann," he replied. There was the feeling of broken glass in her chest and Elsa let out a jagged breath, moving her eyes slowly to Johann. The young man was still smiling at her, but it seemed cold and calculated, as if all of the glacial winds and churning storms of the world had aligned him to her. There was no hint of the doubt that had plagued him lately, for he appeared like a man that knew if he were not now standing on top of the world, he soon would be. It made Elsa step back and feel her anger turn to dread, unable to believe she did not see this coming. Had they been in a different world, the appointment would have not been so strange. He was the son of the established Regent, an accomplished leader and very popular among the court, but in her world he was a viper with glass eyes, looking at her but never seeing her. She had so far been able to avoid his overtures because he did not have the station to force her to consider him, but that was all rapidly changing with his pending appointment and he would soon be able to make a formal bid for her hand, something she could not dismiss as easily as before. With the weight of the Regent behind him, her refusal might have torn the kingdom in two, and that was something she had been desperately avoiding out of the sheer bitterness of seeing her actions pave over its tranquility, as it had once before.

And for her, there was only one person she would willingly give her heart and her hand, though under the weight of duty and obligation he was standing to the side of the entire affair, watching wordlessly as their future was being taken away from them.

"He's a fine man, Your Highness," the Regent continued, drawing on her apparent mood to begin the process of molding the world around her into the one he had long seen in his dreams. "While I realize that, strictly speaking, he has only been captain for a short time, I don't think you'll find anyone more capable of filling Baron Wingate's shoes. He's a bit young and unquestionably has much to learn, but most of the court has already given their support of his nomination."

Seeing how she wavered before him, a decidedly darker light glimmered through the eyes of the old man. "As have _all_ of the other captains."

Elsa gasped as she stared at him, the information taking a few moments to fully sink in, then instantly looked to Yasha, who continued to stare forward with no reaction to her harsh stare. If what the Regent said was true, it meant that even Yasha had given his support of Johann, something that she found nearly impossible to believe, especially in light of the way she read the contempt he had in his eyes whenever he spoke of his rival captain. The very idea that he was complacent in this development was compounded by the dearth of affection they had suffered lately, fueled further by his unstable behavior in regards to his people's plight and the way it drove the tension between them. Sadly, she felt as if she had no idea what he was thinking anymore and she kept her eyes on him, waiting for him to offer some kind of rationale at letting this happen, even if it came in nothing but a telling glance from the eyes she thought she knew so well.

"Still, if Your Highness wishes, you may suggest anyone capable enough to lead the Royal Guard. It is your right to sanction or object to any candidate, after all," the Regent continued, watching her very closely with an omniscient countenance on his face. "Is there anyone you would choose from your captains?"

Elsa's lips parted without hesitation, though she was frozen instantly by a sharp glance from Yasha, who only then granted her desires to be the center of his attention, though in terms far less appealing than she would have preferred. Their eyes met across this sea of misfortune and her heart staggered as he slowly, almost without the notice from others, shook his head at her, sealing away her bid to support him. Without the noise of words, she already knew his thoughts and why he was stopping her, revealing that despite their recent distance and the apparent recession of their tides, there was still the undeniable connection they shared and the affinity they could not escape. His reasons were suddenly upon her.

The perfect path before them was an illusion of light and shadow. There was no way Yasha would have enough support to make the appointment, and Elsa would appear to be letting her emotions influence her decisions.

And that was a critically dangerous thing, as many in the kingdom remembered how her emotions affected her powers.

Seeing as her objections were meaningless against the will of the court and also feeling betrayed by the overwhelming support of Johann's appointment, Elsa let her eyes linger on Yasha only a moment longer before she turned from them, her shoulders quivering under the weight of this development. From him, above all else, she felt the crushing pain of disappointment in her heart, as if his actions had been the hardest ones to swallow.

"No," she replied to the Regent's question, then quickly retreated from the hall as distraught as she had entered it.

"There's no one."

Feeling the cool air leave the room after her, everyone seemed to take a breath and settle, though the meeting could not instantly recover. There was movement and murmurs in the ranks, yet the Regent did not immediately dismiss it, as it was rich fuel for the inferno he had ignited in the world. He was, instead, looking intently at Yasha, a perverse sort of gleam in his eye and he thought it necessary to let the atmosphere remain, for there were not many ways one could burn a phoenix, and because it appeared to truly temper the fire in the young man's eyes.

It was only fitting to enjoy the moment for what it was worth.

"Now then," the Regent barked after letting the whispers slither through the room, making all of the others snap back to attention and focus once more back onto the matter at hand, "if there are no more interruptions, I believe we may consider this a done deal. Even as the Queen has given her consent and although it may seem premature, let's congratulate our new Baron of the Royal Guard."

A wave of agreement washed through the officers as they rushed forward, looking to shake hands with Johann as they raised him to the highest place in Arendelle's armed guard, giving him the prominent position of looking after the kingdom's best interests and safeguarding the royal family, as it had been since antiquity. With the hand of the Regent cast over the move, there were no objections or hesitations among those that felt his presence and the weight of his blood behind the appointment. To many, this was a forgone conclusion. To others, this was merely the next step on the path that would someday see a crown atop Johann's head. Regardless of the fairy tales and backroom chatter of reluctant kings and lonely queens that coursed through the kingdom, this was the reality of the world and the way it seemed destined to flow. The officer's hall was buzzing with the entire range of officers trying to get their moment with their new Baron, trying to curry favor with both him and the proud Regent that watched from the sidelines. It was business as usual in the political backflows of the world, with Johann basking in every moment of this victory that was handed to him on a silver platter.

In the midst of that moment, he let his attention drift the only officer not engaged in the antics, watching with overwhelming delight as Yasha stood to the side, an outsider even among this bartered place, and saw the look of utter despair on him. His eyes were still cast on the closed doors of the halls, where Elsa had stormed out wrapped in her own chains of misery.

The further dissension between them made a wry smile cross the face of the new Baron.

_Oh Yasha, you've not yet begun to know despair._

* * *

In the first weeks of the new Baron's reign over the Royal Guard, there was an unnatural calm that settled over the kingdom, with movements in the background obscured by the everyday business of guarding the world, the Queen and the Princess. Johann's appointment was embraced by the whole of the court, as expected. The transition from Baron Wingate was smooth and painless, and the new Baron picked up his duties with no real difficulty. It was as if the change was destined in the stars and even the Queen, who had been noticeably agitated and often found being counseled privately by the concerned Princess, had no real complaints over how well the young Baron had taken up this charge, even if the details behind the appointment were still bitter and fresh in her heart.

The other arena where expectations were fulfilled completely was the role Yasha would play in this new world order. Under the orders of the new Baron, the captain-prince from Fria found himself on the fringes of the schedule, given the most undesirable rotations that kept him out all night on patrols, setting him adjacent to the world of the Queen. At the dawn of this new era, Yasha became the moon, indefinitely set to linger in the sky opposite of Elsa's sun, with no time afforded them and no chance for their hearts to meet. While the bitterness of Johann's appointment had slowly fallen away to a longing to see the other, exhaustion from their duties ensured that even if there were a passing moment when both of them were in the castle, the weariness of flesh and the vigilant eyes of the court denied them the carefree moments they had taken for granted, leaving them in such a terrible place that even their hearts began to wilt under the domination of the moment.

And as a statement to the depth of his resolve, the new Baron did not relent in the pursuit of his destiny even for a moment.

On a particularly tiring day, when the exhausted sun was just starting to dip into the distant horizon to allow the moon to once more rise, Elsa listened to the door pushed closed behind her, her shoulders drooping and her eyes closed. Her body ached from standing all day, suffering the monotony of her schedule and the wear of her duty, though the idea of finally lying down in her bed and resting did not pretend to offer the same relief to her aching heart, which still beat firmly for her beloved captain-prince. Idly, she began to think of how terrible it had been in the beginning, when she hated him and thought him the criminal, even turning her magic against him and nearly ending the life that would one day fill her own with love and happiness unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Even those frightful days seemed mild compared to the now, when her hate had been turned to a love so powerful that it rippled through her like a storm whenever he was near, and shattered her tenfold whenever he was not.

Hugging herself as proxy, she desperately longed to be with him as a shaky breath escaped her quivering lips.

Disturbing her melancholy, the door behind her was rattled with a firm knock, shaking her from the despair long enough to try and imagine who would be bothering her after such a long day. Alight to her mood, her eyes were drawn to the door and for a moment her heart betrayed her reason, and she projected the object of her desires into the place on the other side of the door, imagining that it was her handsome, beloved prince standing there, having broken away from the schedule of their lives and defied everything to be with her. Such thoughts made her chest rise and her hand flew out to the handle, wrenching the door wildly open and showing her hopeful smile to the lover that she expected to find waiting to take her into his arms.

In the foulest instance of disappointment, she found Johann waiting on the other side.

"Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty. May I have a moment?" he asked politely, though was not lost on just how fractured her face had been when she had found it was him on the other side.

Elsa was devastated as a product of her own expectations. This was the more logical conclusion, as Johann was her Baron and critical to the workings of the kingdom. His role was one of the few that had unrestricted access to the Queen, giving him the path that allowed him to approach her at any time and any place, regardless of her mood.

Yet, he was the last person she wanted to see at the moment. "What is it, Johann? I'm very tired," she replied, leaning against the door and rubbing her hand across her tired brow as an excuse to close her eyes and not look at him.

"I have a few things that I need you to look over. It won't take long, I assure you," he replied, watching her intently and holding out a few pages of carefully inscribed papers.

Elsa sighed as she leaned her head against the door, looking down to the papers and the way they offended her. She was in no mood to play queen and she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the ever-present need to try and protect herself around this viper. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? It's been a long day and I'm getting ready to go to bed," she replied, not showing any interest in receiving him.

Johann was not deterred by that and let the papers linger between them, his eyes having every shred of courtesy but also glowing in a lewd sense of entitlement to her. She did not appreciate the look on him, and he did not appear to care. "While nothing here is so important that the castle would burst into flames should you wait, I'd prefer it if you'd look over them now," he replied, a vicious smile working over the corner of his lips as he considered her stated desires to go to bed.

"Though I'd never deny you the pleasure of a warm bed after the exhaustive affairs of your day," he added in a tone that was not so subtle that she missed his implication.

A fierce wave of red came over Elsa's cheeks as she burned in indignation at him, finding that his new role had emboldened him and made his overtures towards her border on the realm of harassment, though with no one around to witness his deeds, it was simply a matter of her will against his. Truthfully, she felt the overwhelming desire to turn his head into an icicle for the perverse posture he showed her, though that would certainly complicate matters in the kingdom. Having a Baron with an icicle for a head would undoubtedly make running the Royal Guard a challenge. Instead, she felt the best way to dismiss him was to simply give him what he wanted, at least in terms of the flimsy demands he made by holding the papers out to her.

Snatching the papers from his hand, she turned her back against the door and used it for support, sighing once more as she looked over the content and avoiding the feel of his eyes upon her. The reports were inconsequential, a smattering of petty crimes and troop rotations, along with a few suggestions that she barely even noticed as she shuffled them around. This was hardly worth her time or her mood, yet she was already keenly aware the reports were merely an excuse to address her and force her to acknowledge his presence.

To defy him, she began to search the papers for the only thing within that could capture her as he desired.

She searched for Yasha's name among the schedules.

"You know, I don't believe I've ever been in the Queen's chambers before," Johann suddenly remarked, his eyes wandering around the room as he could see it from the outside. His observation was met by her ignoring him, either because she was too busy searching the papers for something or because she simply did not want to acknowledge his shameful remark. That response drew an impatient smirk across his face, and the young Baron decided to test the limits of his new position.

Without warning, Johann stepped passed Elsa and entered her chambers, casually strolling with his gloved hands behind his back and his eyes searching the room for all of its secrets. That did not draw the same mild response from the Queen as she instantly looked up from the papers, her mouth hanging open in disbelief and her eyes flashing in anger. No one had ever been so impetuous as to simply walk into her room without being invited, especially with her standing right there. The air became noticeably colder.

"Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?" she demanded in an icy tone.

Johann pretended to be surprised by her response as he turned to face her from the middle of her chambers. The look on his face revealed that he thought pushing himself into her room was his very birthright. "There's no cause for alarm, Your Majesty. As the one ultimately tasked with your safety, I don't think it's unheard of to inspect your chambers for possible security concerns. After all, there have been more than a few accounts of shadows being seen on your balcony," he replied, obvious in his references to the infamously rumored midnight visits of the Prince of Fria to her room, though he was not being so forward as to specify Yasha, either for the atmosphere or the bitterness of the subject.

Elsa's neck burned and his papers hung forgotten at her side. If he wanted to be solely at the center of her attention, he had certainly found the best way. "I appreciate your concerns, _Baron,_ but those concerns are unnecessary," she growled, though her eyes and her tone fell sharply as she felt the weight of her next words.

"That shadow has not been seen here for many months."

"I see," he replied, still not moving from her chambers and showing that he was using this opportunity, and her obvious exhaustion, to press forward with his true agenda. "You know, I feel that this tension between us is unwarranted, Elsa, especially when there's actually so much history between us. Did you know that I often saw you in these halls as a child, though I was never allowed to approach you because of the wishes of our fathers?"

Hearing him call her by her name sent another wave of anger through her, though his sudden civility threw her off balance, especially as he spoke of days she had tried hard to forget. It was hard to imagine him as a young child, nearly the same age as she had been in her loneliness, though she had no memories of seeing him or anyone else in those halls.

Those halls had always been empty.

"It's probably for the better. At that time, I might have _accidentally_ turned you into a frosty statue," she replied, hoping he would catch the point that if that were to happen now, it would not be by accident.

If he caught it, he did not show it. "Everyone was so concerned about these powers of yours, especially after you harmed the Princess," he said, making sure to remind her of those terrible times and that he had been aware of her powers since the beginning. Turning his eyes out to the kingdom that existed beyond the glass panes, his expression became softer and he allowed the truth of his heart to show through. "I was sworn to secrecy by my father, but to be honest, I didn't care about the powers. I didn't care about the danger. I saw something beautiful that was hurting and I wanted nothing more than to protect it from anything that would do it harm. You might even say it was love at first sight, the first time I'd ever felt that way about anyone."

This softer side of him had the effect of thawing her cold response, though in all of her fatigue, she had trouble deciding which was the real him, the viper or the knight. Thinking about how much different her life would have been had she been allowed to be a normal child playing with kids her age and not living in constant fear of the magic, Elsa let out a genuine sigh and rubbed her arm timidly, casting her eyes away from him and trying not to see this warmth he offered. "It really was for your own good, Johann. I couldn't control it. I might have really hurt you, like I did Anna," she admitted, giving him the benefit of a place in her world.

"I was willing to take the risk," he replied, slowly turning his eyes back on her and showing that in this, he was not lying. The devotion he had for her since childhood was true and infallible. "And I still am. I still love you, Elsa. I still want to protect you. That's why I've done all of this, become this, just so I can fulfill the one dream that's always existed in my heart."

"To love you, and have you love me in return."

Hearing this admission in the open, Elsa's hand clenched at her arm and her brow furrowed. Strangely, it was comforting to hear these things when her heart had been through so much pain, though she did not melt into the fantasy as he hoped, and she still harbored her uncontrollable desires to be with the one she did love. Johann's story was tempting, steeping in pedigree and emotional memories that tied her to him, but the overriding truth of her heart was that the depth of his professed love was shallow compared to her own feelings, the ones reserved for another man.

Fantasy gave away to the truth, and the truth was that she loved Yasha more than she could rationalize to him. There were simply not the words for it.

"I'm sorry, Johann. While I appreciate your feelings, I can't return them. Please understand," she answered, finding it strange that dealing him this blow could cause such pain in her heart. She was surprised by her own sympathy for him.

Although she was not looking, a wave of anger and discontent washed over his face and his hands clenched at his sides. For the first time since those faded days when he saw her distantly in the hallways, feeling his young heart beat at the nobility of loving such a fragile thing, he had expressed his true feelings, only to be denied by the shadow that existed despite all of his efforts to dispel it. It was as if countless years of his life were slipping away from him, relegating him to the peripherals of the true story of Arendelle, the one that would see the Queen marry another.

As it stood, the one poised to become King was this false hero, someone Johann would rather see burn than sit atop the throne.

Johann's eyes became darker, and dangerously more unchained. "Isn't it enough for you?" he suddenly said, stepping towards her in a bearing that instantly put her in edge and plastered her back against the door, her eyes wide and her hands gnarled in anxiety. "Isn't it enough that I've longed for you, thought of you every day of my life, cast myself into a man that could stand against the world and protect you from it?" By now, Johann had cornered Elsa against the door, his anger pressuring her into looking out into the hallway for a measure of help, though finding it was completely empty. Her powers were stirring in a response to him, chilling the air and threatening to meet his aggression with tragedy, all while her eyes were upon his twisted face, this expression of the love he swore to her.

"Haven't I proven myself worthy to love you?" he uttered in a voice she had never known before, if only for its fearsome poison dripping from every tone. Being this close, he could smell the sweet scent of her hair and skin, with not even the sweat of the day fouling this appreciation he had of her. The way her breathing was quivering in her chest was more intoxicating than any ale and he could plainly see himself reflected in her beautiful blue eyes. All of this screamed to him of why he had to love her, and why she could do nothing but love him in return.

"It wouldn't be so bad, you know, being in love with me. I'm not the monster you think I am, and you might find the experience rather stimulating," he cooed at her, his hand dangerously close to touching her bare shoulders and his eyes examining every aspect of her timid, beautiful form. "Naturally, some things would have to change, but I think we're quite compatible."

In spite of her fears and the way his closeness felt foul to her, she could not move and winced visibly at the candor he had at regarding her so intimately. "Some things would have to change?" she repeated, trying to contain her disbelief and the magical response she so desperately wanted to give him.

He nodded, his eyes clouded over by dreams and lifelong expectations. "Certainly," he replied, taking the opportunity to reach up and run his fingers across her swept platinum-blonde crest of hair. "This, for example. And the dress. As my queen, you'd need to portray a more modest image. We can't have everyone thinking we just let it go," he explained, almost laughing at the very idea of letting her remain the free-willed, carefree woman that she was now. It was obvious that his father had been a bit too accommodating in letting her stretch her wings. He planned on making her into the queen everyone would want her to be. "The magic as well. No more frivolous displays of ice here and there. No more ice rinks and no more talking snowmen. Such things would be unnecessary in our union."

"We'd be the perfect couple, you and I. Beautiful, regal...the true future of Arendelle."

Elsa was appalled by this image he had of her. It was chilling to hear him speak so honestly about the love he had for her, yet at the same time see her as nothing more than a doll that needed to be groomed and dressed. This young Baron was already speaking as if he had taken the crown from her head and cupped the world into his waiting hand, something that reminded her of another ambitious young prince that had been willing to do villainous things in order to claim the her kingdom as his own. The correlation did not sit well with her. "I'm not some toy for you to carve, Johann, and this love you have for me doesn't sound like love at all. It sounds like ownership," she warned, pressing off from the door and forcing him to retreat, surprised by how assertive she suddenly became.

"Love isn't about causing change. It's about acceptance. The ones that truly love me accept me for who I am and the choices I've made for myself. If loving you means becoming this perfect doll you have in your head, then you can take that _true future of Arendelle_ of yours and dress it up to your heart's content, alone, in your own room. I'm the Queen of this castle."

"And I'll decide where my heart belongs."

Johann backpedalled into her chambers with a foul expression his face, unable to figure out where this audacity was coming from. The Elsa he knew was timid and malleable, with a quiet heart and a fearful expression on her face. He had seen her for a few fleeting moments as he laid out his grand plans for her, only to have this imposter surface with foolish notions of independence and this overwhelming sense of self. This woman before him was not the queen he saw at his side, but something else entirely.

This woman was a pale shadow of the queen he wanted her to be.

"So even after all of this generosity I've shown you, this is still your choice?" he growled, holding his ground before her and barely containing the anger at his trembling hands. Strangely, his instincts were spurring him to deter this rebellion and step far beyond the bounds of his station with her, with a frighteningly lucid desire to strike her welling in his muscles. It was the petty response that always rose within him when he did not get what he wanted, to simply lash out and let the afterthoughts mediate his actions. Strangely, even though he was unsure if even his father's clout could excuse raising his hand against his queen, it was not that uncertainty that stayed his hand, but something far more vivid in his chest as he stared at her.

For first time since he had known her, he worried for the look in her eyes and her ability to bring a level of retribution upon him that dissolved any allusions he had of simply impressing his will upon her with the force of his hand.

In truth, he was quite afraid of her magic.

"There was never any choice, Johann. I follow my heart, and it doesn't lead me to you. Maybe one day you'll understand that and stop these games that are unbecoming of you," she answered, standing her ground against him and trying to inform him of his true station to the best of her ability. She did not want any more confusion between them.

She did not, and would not, ever love him.

Johann's retreat had not been in his plans for the evening, though she obviously did not know the depths of his determination. If she would not come peacefully to his arms, he would find other ways of making his dreams come true, with or without her love or consent. After all, he now had the position. All that was left was the time and the patience to see his designs through.

"I think, Your Majesty, it will be you that comes to your senses one day," he replied, ominously warning her that even though she had made her intentions perfectly clear, this was not over.

Not at all.

Elsa sighed heavily at his refusal to be a better man, though he pushed her far beyond exhaustion and far closer to some icy retribution than she was willing to admit. Relaxing her hands a bit, she folded her arms in tightly around her, crushing the papers she had received, and stepped to the side, letting her door stand widely open for his departure, while her eyes ordered it without regret.

"It's time for you to go."

Johann lingered a moment, recovering the potency he had lost to her mood, though decided that there was nothing left to gain in in pushing her, and that he was now required to take a different route. Fortunately, as he had already planned for her refusal to see reason, that route was already marked with the villainous slash of his pen, and even as he walked to her door in obvious defeat, a devious smile was playing at his lips as he prepared to have the winning hand for the evening. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, turning at her foyer and seeing the obvious annoyance it brought up in her eyes. Her expression renewed him. "It's not in the report, but I made a slight change to the watch at your door tonight. It's barely notable, but I think if you happen to be awake at the strike of the morning hour, you may find the change…"

"Interesting."

The enigmatic aside made her brow furrow in confusion, though he was confident she would come across the truth eventually. Although he would not be there to see it, he imagined the look on her face would be very satisfying and he presented a venomous expression of his own, if only to credit her for the bitter disappointment she had already served him. "Good night, Your Majesty," he said politely, bowing to her as was expected of the Baron to his Queen, then left her in a stupor in the depths of her chambers, only able to come to one logical conclusion about the truth he had left so cruelly at her door.

"Yasha," she whispered breathlessly, and the door was closed quietly before her.


	9. Lovers Not Often Lie

**IX**

Lovers Not Often Lie

The strike of the midnight hour found Elsa sitting on the edge of her bed, awake and consumed in thought as she had been since the tense departure of the Baron of her Royal Guard. Even though the day had drained her completely, sleep would not come to her in the anticipation of Johann's prophecy, the one that might bring her beloved shadow the closest he had been in what seemed like an eternity. Although she was sure she did not want to be seen by him, her face drawn by emotion, her eyes ringed with fatigue and the sweat of the day still clinging to her body, nothing could keep her from waiting for him.

Lately, it seemed like all she did was wait for him.

Her arms wrapped loosely around herself, she was staring at the darkness at the other side of her room, her heels drumming anxiously across the carpeted floor. From the moment Johann had mentioned the change of her guard, she had been trying to figure out the logic of it, though she could really only come to one conclusion. Yasha was being dangled right in front of her nose in a place where she could not reach him, and while that suspicion was bitter and infuriating, all she could think about was being near to him, even if the expectation was that she would not feel his touch or the pleasure of being in his arms.

Petulantly, she wondered if she would fulfill her expectations and behave as she was supposed to when the time came.

After a few maddening minutes following the strike of the hour, Elsa's back straightened as she heard the change of the guard outside and it was a sound that instantly made her jump to her feet and rush to the door, pressing against it softly to listen. There was muffled speaking and the sound of footsteps leading away from her chambers, followed by the sounds of a person coming to rest at the other side of her door, her heartbeat marking each moment with the thunderous sound on her chest.

Then there was silence.

For a few moments, she did not move, but just pressed against the door and felt its solid construction under her hand. The hard wood felt chilling against her skin and her eyes fixated on the knob, though her hand would not go near it for any number of reasons, the most potent being that she was afraid that all of her waiting was for naught and someone else was waiting for her beyond the foyer. That level of disappointment would have been devastating to her and nearly defeated her intent to endure, though in the end she had no choice but to follow her heart, something she had preached to Johann as being the very reason she would never give up on love.

Curling her fingers, she took a deep breath and knocked on the wood softly.

There was a stifling delay before the response came. "What is it, my Queen?" said a voice through the door and she instantly recognized it for its sweet, beautiful tone, something she had been denied for far too long. It made her heart soar and sink at the same time knowing that it was Yasha standing there, mere inches away, but separated by wood and duty.

The carrot had come into sight. Now it was only a matter of whether or not she would be able to reach it.

"Is it really you?" she asked, looking thoughtfully at the door, as if she could see him there, handsomely in his uniform and steadfast against anything that would try to harm her. Anna had been right about one thing, despite how fiercely she denied it; seeing Yasha in his uniform took Elsa's breath away, and she could barely contain her restraint when thinking of simply turning a metal knob and satisfying her unquenchable desire to see him.

"Yes," he answered and her chest rose in anticipation, as if he would be the one to breach expectation and open the door between them. To her disappointment, he only offered her a plated oath that did not satisfy her. "I will stand guard tonight. Sleep well, my Queen."

She did not like the formality in his voice, or the title. It was not the tone she wanted to hear from him, though she was happy just to hear his voice. Although the door was closed between them, she felt like they were finally alone and she could stop being a queen for a moment, if only he would do the same and stop being a guard. "You're expecting a lot of me if you think I can sleep at all with you standing right outside my door," she remarked, smiling bitterly as she ran her fingers down the lacquered wood, imagining it was a part of him.

Yasha was a quiet for a moment. "I apologize for the inconvenience," he replied, though she knew this was not the cold formality of before.

For him, that was a pretty good attempt at talking playfully to her.

Elsa smiled only for a moment before her lips collapsed and she pressed her head against the door, trying desperately to listen for him, for his breath or his heartbeat. She had tried to prepare herself for how hard this was going to be, to have him right there when she had not been able to be with him. The door felt like a row of bars, and her chambers a prison. It was the greatest irony when a queen's entire castle could become such a cell. "This is the closest you've been in a long time. I'm beginning to think you forgot how to get onto my balcony," she said, trying to retain her playful voice but feeling it crack under the weight of her heart. Her smile came and went, torn between happiness and sorrow, as her eyes examined every grain of wood in the door between them.

"There is not a day that passes where I do not retrace the path in my mind, though my heart never forgets the way," he responded in a voice that melted her, as if he still commanded the powerful fires of their past. She was happy that he still demonstrated his poetic license, and hearing that his days passed in thoughts of her made her smile linger, if only to reveal the bitter pain in her chest as the air outside her door became heavy and despotic. "But you know why I cannot come there, no matter how much I wish to see you," he said quietly and she could hear the fierce resentment in that. The reason seemed so thin, but she could also understand it completely.

Despite their royal bloodlines, there was a tyrant in their lives.

Closing her eyes tightly and remembering the terrifying visit, Elsa struggled to find the courage tell him of things that she knew would infuriate him, though some small, selfish part of her wanted him to be infuriated, if only because it would be the conspicuous exhibition she wanted to remind her of just how hotly his flame burned for her. "Johann came here earlier. He entered my room and was insistent about his desires for my hand," she said quietly, feeling her hands over the door for some hint of his mood.

There was no answer for a time, and she swore she could feel the heat seeping through the door. It made a flight of panic rise in her chest. "Yasha?" she asked, opening her eyes and wondering if it had been a mistake in telling him.

In contrast to the the cold of her chambers, the hallway was a kiln of Yasha's anger. Had it not been the middle of the night, anyone passing carelessly through the halls would have found him bleeding off waves of heat, his body tense and his eyes touched wildly by furious hues of orange and red. Months of keeping the FireHeart under control had not prepared him for the inferno that overtook him at that moment, for the very idea of another man in Elsa's chambers pierced him with feelings of possession like he had never imagined, and threatened to reveal his secrets to the world by turning the royal wing of the castle into a charred ruin.

The only thing that kept the flames from appearing in that dim hallway was the concerns he had for the tone in Elsa's voice and the obvious distress the ordeal caused her. Ironically, it tempered his magic. "What happened?" he asked, trying to stave off the uncontrollable desires to both tear down the door to comfort her and fly off to find Johann at the same time.

While his simple question did not betray the overbearing response she wanted, the tone and temperature allowed Elsa to feel his passion for her, and she was satisfied with that. "He told me he loved me, and that we'd be the perfect couple," she said, remembering the suggestion with shivers and frowning as she thought of just how poorly she reflected in his eyes. "He said that we're the true future of Arendelle."

Silence lingered in the hall once more.

"And what was your response?" Yasha finally asked, his voice strangely uncertain for an answer that should have resided in his heart without question.

The reservations in his voice made a languid smile come over Elsa's face, as she found it endearing that he could doubt her response even in the slightest. Sometimes, she found the strangest things about him adorable. "I told him, in no less courteous terms, that he'd spend every night loving himself in the privacy of his own room before I'd ever consider marrying him," she said in a sassy tone, and it brought a much needed discharge of laughter from the darkness of the hallway beyond, where she could feel the heat bleeding away from him, as well as the relief it brought to hear him relax.

"And I told him that I had already found the one I love," she added, her face touched with a meekly glowing blush as she was finally given the chance to vent the frustrations of her heart.

Outside, Yasha got over his amusement at her response and sighed despondently, mirroring all of the frustrations and pain she had. He was happy she could still act so flippantly towards the situation, but he was too rooted in the anger he felt to share that tone, especially as he watched the seemingly empty hallway stare back at him. There were shadows at the end of the corridor, and he knew he was being observed intently, a guard to watch the guard. This entire farce was nothing but a way to for Johann to have a measure of revenge against him, for the way he had succeeded at Elsa's heart, even as the man was still making his overtures despite the warnings he had been given. It was unheard of for a captain to stand watch all night, even at the Queen's chambers, but the newly-appointed Baron knew it would be torture to stand there, so close to her, yet unable to do anything but his duty.

And a guard's duty was never to be in love with the Queen.

"But that did not deter him," he suggested foully.

Elsa sighed shaking her head against the solid door. "No," she answered. "It didn't."

"As expected of villains that hide behind titles and etiquette," he growled, remembering his warning to Johann about trying to bully Elsa into loving him, yet bitterly finding he no longer lacked the freedom to make good on it. Instead, he was as trapped in his prison just as Elsa was, and he could do nothing more than straighten his back and stare lifelessly at the opposite wall once more, trying to settle back into the role assigned to him and enjoy the moment for what it was worth – a fleeting affair where he would at least get to be near her. "It does not matter. We must continue to play this pitiful game of his. He is the Baron of the Guard, and I will follow his orders. That was the oath I took to serve your kingdom."

Elsa was suddenly infuriated. She had never wanted Yasha to join the Royal Guard in the first place, though a small part of her knew he had been miserable in the castle, with no way to ever find a place in the workings of her kingdom. She found the way things worked archaic and petty, with nobles and lords all vying for favor in the court and the Queen herself unable to do many things because of it. There were unbelievable amounts of convolution in the court of Arendelle, and it came as no surprise that Elsa had never fully appreciated it until now, when her desires were pressing against the ancient foundations of the castle and her unchained heart had been finding its own way in the world. It even made the pathway to that heart a precarious and dangerous thing.

And she found it vindictive that the one thing that would allow her to be together with the one she loved was now the thing that was keeping them apart.

"I'm the Queen," she huffed, feeling the pain making her eyes hot and blurry, "I'll command him to…"

"No," he interrupted her, though she had known he would do it. Her outburst was emotional and Yasha had always clung to the rational. The simple response showed he completely understood how dangerous that thought was and how honestly he opposed it. She hated him for that. "He is waiting for you to interfere, and will seize upon any favor you show me. It is precisely the act he hopes for."

Elsa hit the door softly with her fist and rolled her head against it, her face drawn into a painful grimace. "I don't care! This is too much, Yasha. Too much," she cried, her voice sounding through the empty hallway as tears of frustration burned at the corner of her eyes. She was disappointed with him and his logic, and with the way it made so much sense despite how ridiculous it was. In a cruel, wicked sort of way, he was being made into her villain once more, if only because he restrained her desires with his inaction, which only made these feelings in her chest more vicious as they forced him to share in the resentment she had for the situation as a whole.

"What good is being the Queen if I can't see the one I love in my own castle?"

Part of her anger was also directed inward. Despite how passionately she was crying out to him, she still would not simply reach down and open the unlocked door between them.

That seemed like the biggest sin of all.

Yasha's hands clenched at his sides and he glared harshly at the wall, the dim light in the hallway revealing the still-lingering orange glow in his eyes. Hearing her in pain was almost more than he was willing to bear, and he was tempted to throw all of the games aside and convict them both in the eyes of the court. It seemed ridiculous that the two of them, wielders of ancient magic, should be bound by petty rules and petty ambitions, unable to freely experience the love they had for one another. Had they but wished it, they could have been together in a moment. They both had such power at the tips of their fingers.

And no one could stop them.

Yasha instantly shook those thoughts from his mind, as they brought up dark feelings that made waves of fear wash over him. He had been careful to warn her against using her power to simply take what she wanted. To do so would be to betray the trust of her people, and he knew that her true self was not the tyrant she would become. Acting that way, even once, would freeze and shatter her heart. He could not bear that thought.

And secretly he also feared the path of fire, for even if it meant suffering this insufferable pain, he would never allow himself to become like his father.

"You must not," he cautioned, though his own voice was strained by his emotions.

Elsa hated the fact that he told her the way it had to be, just as he always had. In spite of her defiant tone, she knew how impossible it was to give in to the lonely night and embrace the fantasy of a queen and her illicit lover. Once more, she wondered why they had to suffer so much after all they had been through, as if it all had not bought the peaceful days that everyone but them seemed to enjoy. His command made a choking sob escape her lips and she pressed her head into the door, her eyes closed and her heart reaching out for him. "I miss you," she whispered, petting the wood softly, "It's painful to know you're so close. To hear your voice. To feel you standing there."

"I don't know how much longer I can take this."

Yasha let the air seep from his pensive lips and he felt the pain in her voice, his hand slowly reaching back to touch the door as well. It was bittersweet to be touching the same door as her, knowing he had the strength to open it, but not the resolve.

"You have endured worse," he reminded her.

"I don't want to endure it anymore. I want to be together," she admitted, "like before."

The memories of their secret nights together burned hotly in their minds and hearts, and both of them were silent in reverence for them. It had been simple and thrilling, to sneak away from prying eyes and find quiet moments together, a whimsical tale of a star-crossed king and queen. There was everything in those memories, including the betrayal of how carelessly they took them for granted, for if they had known the storm that waited just beyond the horizon, they would have spent every waking moment together as well as the passionately entangled nights.

Just the very mention of those days made the door seem like such a flimsy thing, and reasons even more so.

"And I," he replied, his back touching the door as he slumped in the agony of their plight.

Silence permeated the hallway and her chambers, with only the soft breeze outside playing sad notes across the rooftops. This dirge of passion seemed to last a lifetime, clasping them both in grief. Pressed into the unyielding door between them, their resistance felt fragile, and their fate seemed cruel. At the moment, neither of them knew when this drought was going to end, and whether it would do so in joy, or tragedy.

"Yasha," Elsa suddenly whispered, her voice like fire in the stagnant air between them.

The power in her voice staggered his mood, and he was almost afraid to respond to her. "I am here," he replied quietly.

Biting her lip, she opened her eyes to the door and whispered softly against it, caressing the sculpted wood as if it were him. "Won't you come in? Only for a short while," she pleaded, not caring for the consequences anymore and hoping she had broken down his resistance. Her blood was boiling from anger and desire, and her face was flush. This silence of the night had lulled her into a daze where she believed nothing existed around them, and that anything they did would be obscured from the watching world. Her intent was obvious in her tone.

Nothing mattered to her at that moment but being with him.

"Please."

Yasha's jaw tightened and his resolve wavered. Hearing her call him that way made every part of him want to turn, burn down the door and consume her, for all three things were well within his power and utterly rational to his starving heart. He could feel the way the door was cooling at her touch, bowing to the effects of her powers just as he was bowing to the effects of her voice, though the chill seemed inadequate to temper the fire in him. The dim candles in the hallway thrashed about, and even out into the courtyard some of the other guards were noticing the way the torches were acting wildly in their cradles. The fire in his chest raged out of control from her appeals.

She was a cruel Snow Queen, to invite him so hotly in sacrificing their fate once more.

Tucking his head down, he let out a slow breath, which came out as steam as his magic touched the acute chill in the air. His mind was clouded and his pulse out of control. When he finally found the strength to reply, it was as much of a surprise to him as it was to her, for just when he felt his logic burn away to the passion of her request, the pragmatic desires of his heart took control of him, making sure that he did not sacrifice their future for the pleasures of the moment.

"I cannot."

Elsa suddenly felt a fit of anger once more, though this time it was directed at him. The stress was straining her patience and she suddenly recoiled from the door, clenching her hands at her sides and glaring at him through the wood. "You…you're such a stubborn, stubborn man!" she cried, furious that he could still deny her and that she would not get want she wanted. She seethed at him, trying to think of a thousand other terrible things to say, but still feeling the tears running down her cheeks. This madness of the heart was overwhelming and she no longer had the strength to persuade him as her chambers filled with frost and crystals of ice sparkled against the lingering moonlight in her windows.

As proxy to their imperfect world, Elsa was casting a frozen one upon her chambers, if only because she no longer had any control over her deepest heart, and the frost was slowly creeping over across the floor of her room, running around her and threatening to seal her doors with impenetrable layers of frigid, acerbic ice. Whirling around, she overtly slammed her back against the door and crossed her arms harshly, staring forward as her face crumpled into a pout, making her tantrum reflect her sudden childishness well in the sheen of ice around her room. "Fine then. Just stay out there," she said, whimpering as she slowly slid down the door until her arms touched her knees and she dropped her head against them.

"I hope you catch a cold," she hissed peevishly.

The curse was as vicious as she could manage, but she instantly felt bad about putting even the mildest of hexes on him. Getting angry at him was petty and shallow, for even if her head was aware of his stubbornness, her heart understood he did these things to buy their future, even if the price was steep and the rewards out of sight. This separation was more than she could bear and the Queen quietly cried into her the sleeves of her dress, trying to keep him from hearing her as penance for the curse she cast on him.

Yasha had very good ears and he slowly leaned his head back against the door, looking up at the ornate ceiling and letting out a slow, strangled breath. Never had he so fully regretted his decision to join the Royal Guard, and he conceded that Johann had won this battle with his careful manipulations. This path to gain pedigree in Arendelle was harder than he expected, as he felt just as frustrated as she did. The workings of the royal court took him out of his element and he started to doubt that he could succeed.

Those doubts were short-lived though, as listening to her quiet sobs was a sobering reminder of why he was doing it in the first place, and why he had to succeed.

"Elsa," he called from the other side of the door, cracking the frozen atmosphere.

Sniffling, Elsa turned her head slightly and wiped the tears away with her hand, not really wanting to talk with him anymore but clinging to some small hope that he would dispel the pain from her chest. "What?" she said, relieved that he could not see what the tears were doing to her irritated eyes.

His lips parted for a moment, and then slowly closed. While he wanted to give her the answers to all of her questions, he found that was well outside of his power, and he could do nothing more than slump against her fastened door, his eyes closing slowly amidst the sounds of her cries, and uphold the duty he had before him in order to keep her safe until the morning came.

"Good night."


	10. Tyrannical Love

**X**

Tyrannical Love

It was a warm, sunny morning in the early summer when the market in Arendelle blossomed, bringing out many of the townspeople to join the merchants and workers that had already been awake since long before the sun had crept over the distant peaks of the mountains. The town around the castle was bustling with life, with children playing in the streets and chatting mothers dotting the squares, reflecting brightly on the halcyon days that dominated the busy trade port and the unyielding sentinel that stood over it, a bastion of peace and prosperity that stood like a beacon of light to the rest of the world. All that arrived by ship and sea marveled in the shadow of the castle, unaware that even this brilliant tower that stood against the storm was not always so tranquil just beneath its ivory surface.

"It's been ages since we've walked through the market like this. Do you have to walk so far behind me?" the beautiful Queen Elsa complained as she walked through the bustling market, calling back to the shadow that lingered behind her, a shade that was as watchful of her as was the castle over the town. When her mood should have been as radiant as her appearance, it was fouled by the behavior of her escort, a lone Royal Guard captain that that followed a few steps behind, guarded as much for his distance to her as he was for any threat that might come near.

Yasha's pale gray eyes wandered over the market around them, if only to avoid letting them be drawn to her, where they wanted to be most. It was blatantly obvious that he shared her sour mood. "It is expected for the Royal Guard to not interfere with the Queen's affairs. I will gladly carry any of your goods, should you acquire more than you can handle," he replied dryly, superficially letting his attention linger on unimportant things, but secretly never letting her get too far away from him.

Elsa continued to let him destroy her mood and rolled her eyes. "If you keep up with that Royal Guard nonsense even when we're alone, I'll command you to throw yourself into the dungeon," she grumbled, loud enough that he would hear but also trying to not vent her dissatisfaction about their relationship to the onlookers that gawked at their presence. In the past, when their romance was new and awkward, they had come here on occasion, actors on the public stage, to try and play off their attraction as merely necessary for the absorption of Fria into Arendelle. In truth, no one was fooled as they saw the spark between them, and no one could be found who would object to their union.

That was, of course, until they walked into the castle and found an entire undercurrent of will that had worked to pry them apart ever since.

Without her noticing, Yasha had paused, his eyes on a few men that lingered at the other side of the market, their fur clothing setting them apart from the crowd and their dark eyes cast upon the Queen. While it was not unusual for outsiders to stare at the infamously brilliant Snow Queen, there was something in the air around these men that flagged Yasha's senses, especially as they appeared much like wild animals, and he made sure his presence was known to them as he stared back, cutting an imposing figure against the backdrop of the market until they broke from their gawking and moved on, disappearing into the crowds.

Satisfied they would not bother her, Yasha turned slowly and continued to follow, his instincts still warning him about the men but feeling the pull of distraction at being so near her again. "You know why I cannot come closer. The absurdity behind it need not be repeated at every given chance," he finally replied, keeping a vigilant eye out for anything else suspicious.

"Ugh, you really are a stubborn man," she muttered, finding that his presence would not even let her concentrate on browsing the market, for she was too focused on the hollow in her chest caused not by his absence, but by his proximity and the absurdity he alluded to.

Although she was annoyed with him, she ultimately could not help but look back over her shoulder and see that he was there. Just finding his handsome figure cut so cleanly in the lines of his uniform made her heart beat and her anger settle, making her want nothing more than to discard all of these games, turn around and go to him regardless of the many eyes upon them. The image of herself throwing her arms around him in the middle of the busy market and placing a passionate kiss on his lips made a warm blush cover her face, for it would be so unheard of that maybe such a blatant act might shatter this frozen world that was upon them and scatter the rules so far that they might no longer apply at all.

Shaking off those lewd thoughts, Elsa looked back forward and rubbed the heat from her cheeks, finding that she would never be able to face her subjects if she were so bold. The life of a queen was hard, but the trials of a young woman in love were even harder.

Eager to cool herself, she suddenly burst forward into a hurried walk, moving against the flow of people through the market and trying to navigate their affectionate calls and loitering, all in an effort to leave her escort behind. Yasha was not lost upon this sudden dash into the crowds. "What are you doing?" he called after her, hastening his pace as well and weaving through the gawking crowds with all of the agility of a predator chasing its prey.

Elsa bristled at the sound of his voice and how it did not help disperse the heat she was feeling. While it was primal to be excited by the way he chased her, at the moment she was really trying to get away from him, though she knew with his abilities and resolve, there was no way she would ever truly escape him.

Sometimes, she had to be more direct in her handling of him.

In the middle of the watching crowds, Elsa abruptly turned to him and showed her annoyance in her tight posture, while hoping she was hiding her other emotions. Inwardly, she hoped the red on her face would be taken for its color and not its temperature. "I'm attending to the Queen's affairs. There are other places that I want to look and I don't need some brooding guard hanging over my shoulder all day. Do you have a problem with that, _Captain_ Yasha?" she barked, loud enough that it stalled some of the onlookers that gathered around them, though for the denizens of Arendelle this appeared as nothing more than a lover's quarrel, yet with the beautiful Snow Queen and the fiery Prince of Fria involved, it quickly became the attention of the entire market.

There was even an empty line of street between them where all of the whispering spectators had parted in order to give them a clear view of one another.

Yasha's expression soured as he heard the sharpness in her voice, though he was also keenly aware of the audience they had attracted. Usually, he would not have minded the crowd and made efforts to placate her, but the glances of the guards stationed in the market warned him that they were not just being watched by the citizens, but by the eyes and ears of the Baron as well. This was Johann demonstrating the true depth of his cruelty, when he would let them be together without the doors, though just as restrained in the affection they could show one another. In front of the entire kingdom, a captain of the Royal Guard would not dare to fraternize with the Queen without suffering severe consequences.

Those consequences were exactly what Johann was hoping to rule upon them.

"No," Yasha sighed, relaxing in his pursuit of her and signaling that he would let her go, feeling himself a coward and a cad. "I will be nearby if you need me."

Elsa felt her annoyance flare at his retreat, for she secretly had hoped he would defy her wishes and endure her shallow attempts to push him away. She felt wicked for doing so, but she wanted him to do what her heart commanded, not follow the false orders from her lips. Before Johann's quest to separate them, Yasha had been very keen on understanding what her heart wanted and had delighted her in his ability to fulfill her even when she was not so honest in the demands she made of him.

As a true testament to the sins they suffered, she wondered if he was losing that ability to interpret the riddles of her heart.

Scowling and gruffly exhaling her frustrations, she turned from him and continued through the crowd, heading to another part of the market to be angry and alone. Yasha echoed her sigh and remained still, listening to the whispers around him.

With the departure of the Queen, the market began to flow once more, though Yasha felt like a stone lodged firmly in the middle of a great rolling river, feeling the current crash into him and then simply move on without a care. In spite of how firmly he clung to his honor and his resolve to do what he felt was right, he saw no end to this blanket of dark clouds, no sunlight at the peripherals of this storm. Even with Elsa so near, he felt so completely lost as to begin to lose heart, something that felt so foreign to him that it threatened to petrify him, where he could no longer act at all.

Appalled at his own conduct, he suddenly felt like he was his own nemesis in the narrative of his romance with Elsa.

"Prince Yasha?"

A voice broke through the currents around him and Yasha winced at the name, finding that he both still resented it, but also strangely clung to its allure. Usually, he would have found a proud soldier attached to the name, holding to the authority it still had among the lost citizens of Fria and still seeing him as the rightful ruler of their people, but when he looked to the source of the call this time, it was no soldier he found, but something that shook his every expectation. It was a beautiful young woman, with long raven hair tied back with a fine bonnet, her dark eyes indicative of those that had lived under the mountain and suffered through years of ash and smoke. Her skin was slightly scarred, but still beautiful, and she radiated a sense of strength that had undoubtedly helped her endure their world until the day they finally left the mountain and settled into the fresh air of Elsa's kingdom. At her side, there was a tall man, who stood quietly but strong, his blue eyes and light hair striking a stark contrast to the woman next to him, though somehow complimenting her, as if the two of them had been destined to stand together before him.

Yasha's attention lingered on the woman, his brow furrowed in memory. She was familiar to him, and it only took a moment to remember the few times he had seen her in Fria and the details behind her pedigree. "You are Mikhail's daughter Natasha. You helped tend the stables," he said slowly, hoping his mind was not so clouded by despair as to forget the people he had worked so hard to liberate.

The young woman's face brightened instantly and she giggled, clutching her hand across her chest. It was not every day that the prince of her homeland called her by name. "I am honored you know my name and my father's, Prince Yasha," she gasped, bowing her head reverently to him to try and repay him for such an honor. Her gesture seemed to thaw his pensive expression and she quickly placed her hand on the arm of the man next to her, continuing to beam at the pride she felt in her heart. "This is my husband, Wilhelm."

Now as his eyes moved to the man again, Yasha did not seem as confident in his recollection. "I do not recognize you. You are not from Fria," he remarked.

"Well, no. I'm from Arendelle," Wilhelm replied, a bit sheepishly as he was not used to chatting with members of royalty or officers of the Royal Guard. With how famous Yasha was within Arendelle, it only added to the ambiance of the meeting. "I'm a merchant that's been helping the people from Fria to sell their wares in the markets around the kingdom. That's how I met Natasha," he explained, placing his large hand at her back and proudly displaying her to someone she obviously admired.

Yasha looked between the two of them, slowly trying to grasp the depth of the situation. While he had initially felt a strange sort of repulsion at the idea, seeing their powerful connection and obvious affection dissolved any shallow response he had, making him embrace the union for what it truly was – everything that he had fought so hard for.

The future.

"Then you have my thanks for helping my people, Wilhelm," Yasha said, bowing his head to the man in honor of his commitment his people, especially the wife at his side.

Wilhelm did not often have the most renowned man in Arendelle offer such honor, so he was a little nervous as he waved his hands out to try and dismiss the gesture. "Oh no! It's nothing. I mean, it's the least I can do to help. We're all part of Arendelle now, aren't we?" he replied nervously, giving Natasha a warm glance as he spoke.

For him, loving Natasha was not matter of country or title, but simply a matter of the heart.

Yasha envied him for that. "So it would seem," he replied, finding his eyes wandering from them in an effort to locate another subject of affection that transcended all borders and reasonable expectation, though he found himself continuing to hesitate in spite of the immaculate example that stood right before him. Finding Elsa in the distance, still fuming as she browsed through a collection of exotic spices, he made sure to once more uphold his duty in deference to his distance by making sure she was still safe and sound.

Natasha and Wilhelm noticed his declining mood and his fixation on the Queen, though they would not pretend to understand the nuances of royal life. Instead, they wanted to make sure they broached the subject that had made them approach before Yasha's duty took him away. "My prince, we have just recently discovered that I am with our first child," Natasha said meekly, her hand running across the inconspicuous bump at her stomach, a warm haze of red dancing across her face. Her eyes slowly rose to him and she appeared reluctant to ask anything of him, despite how strongly she wanted to have his attention. "I was hoping you would give us your favor, so our child will grow up strong and healthy."

The request took Yasha by surprise and his eyes lingered on the indiscernible womb where this extraordinary child was growing within. The subject had made both Natasha and Wilhelm appear uncomfortable, for betraying the intimate details of their union to someone who existed in a different world felt strange, though they had both agreed to the importance of it. This was particularly true for Natasha, as she was one of those from Fria that held her prince with such high regard that she had spent nearly every day figuring out how to get an audience with him and receive the traditional blessing that was deeply rooted in their culture.

Finding him in the market had felt like destiny, and spurred them into approaching him despite the risks of impeding his obvious affairs.

While Yasha had seen his Oma grant such blessings due to the respect she had commanded in Fria, he had never been asked to offer such a thing before, due to the apathy of his bloodline and the time he spent in exile, so their hopeful expectations made him hesitate, wondering if he were really the right person to ask. Yet, the significance of the child did not escape him, and he could not dismiss their hopes just because he suffered his own doubts, for to deny one of his own people the few reminders of their lost kingdom felt like betrayal, even if it meant acknowledging the blood that flowed through his veins and the heritage it represented.

Taking a deep breath, Yasha slowly raised his hand out, letting it hover over her stomach. There was nothing to feel with his trembling hand, but he could strangely imagine the hazy image of a young boy running around, making a strange smile tug at his lips. While he did not know if this was the whispering of the FireHeart, the importance of the moment struck him powerfully. This child was the future that Elsa had embraced when Fria disappeared into the fire and frost that now gripped the mountain. It was as much a part of her legacy just as it was his, a product of sacrifice, love and time. In some strange and empathic way, this was Yasha and Elsa's child, and he felt his heart churn at the thought of it coming into the world, met by parents that would love it endlessly, regardless of anything else that might be.

The future was a powerful thing to witness firsthand.

"I feel the fire of the mountain in your child," Yasha finally managed to say, trying to sound prophetic while his voice suffering the weight of his emotions, and he slowly raised his eyes to them. "It will be a fine boy. You should be very proud."

"A boy!" Natasha cheered as she gave Wilhelm a brilliant smile and tugged at his arm excitedly, as if such simple words would guarantee the child's future. The man also seemed pleased, though he was trying to calm her, if only because he thought her fit might offend Yasha. Natasha's excitement would not be diminished and she suddenly clapped her hands onto Yasha's, unable to contain the joy she felt in her heart. "Thank you, my prince! Oh, thank you! May the mountain bless you!" she cheered, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Yasha had rarely seen such happiness in response to something so simple and he could not help but smile as Wilhelm offered him an embarrassed bow, then herded his ecstatic wife away, her voice still carrying the thrills of having her child inheriting the blessing of the mountain.

As they faded away into the crowds, Yasha slowly lowered his hand to his side and stared aimlessly into the distance, finding the entire incident burning furiously in his mind. His lips no longer had an amused smile, but were pursed in thought. As the realities of his own world sank into him once more, his eyes shifted to Elsa, who still moved at a distance. A new wave of realities hit him as he watched her, bringing with them their sharpness, as if countless blades were piercing his chest.

He had sworn to never see her cry again, and failed.

He had sworn to fulfill her every desire, and failed.

He had sworn to make her happy, and failed.

As the failures compounded upon him, he stood there and suddenly wondered what he had been doing until now, while watching her beautiful figure move gracefully about and touch the lives of her people with elegance and kindness. Hers was an existence that seemed displaced from the world and once more recognizing her extraordinary nature was slowly making Yasha see the folly of his recent behavior and how even if he stood still, clutching his honor like a great, unmoving shield, the currents of the world would continued to move on around him.

Frighteningly, if he continued to stand around and do nothing, they might someday take her with them.

The very thought of watching her drift beyond his reach struck fear in his chest, though it suddenly brought a far different reaction to his eyes. The thought of the child that would one day enter the world, a testament of love against fate, made his gray eyes reflect her radiant image clearly, and begin to cast away the storm. Even the foulness of his previous mood could not smother a growing realization within him as a warm smile touched his lips, as if the countless days of doubt and fear had merely masked the truth from him, and that in spite of all the searching, the answer had been before him the entire time.

In his chest, Yasha's heart began to beat once more.

"The future of Fria and Arendelle…" he whispered, then pushed himself back into her world, walking forcefully forward as he began to draw the black-bladed dagger at his belt.

"I wonder if Anna would like this," Elsa mused as she handled a silken scarf between her fingers, using thoughts of her sister as a way to distract her from the pitfall of thinking of Yasha. Shopping had usually calmed her, though even the joys of interacting with her people had not been as satisfying as it usually was because of the burden on her heart. In light of her mood, she had been blatantly ignoring him, though she knew he was still nearby. While that would have usually excited her, it did nothing more than fuel the disdain she had for the role he had in the tragedy that was upon them.

And suddenly, a beautiful flower appeared before her face. "I trust your affairs are going well?" said an almost forgotten voice, for while it was instantly recognizable as Yasha's, it was light and loving, two things of which it had not been recently.

Elsa jumped at the flower, then stared at him with wide eyes, her chest heaving at the mercy of her racing heart. They were standing in the middle of the market, in plain view of everyone, and he was holding this fiery flower out to her, his body close and his eyes set firmly upon her. His brazenness made her heart thunder in her ears. "Yasha!" she cried, desperately trying to figure out what he was doing and hearing the waves of whispers grow around them. Looking around, she could see dozens of eyes on them, coupled with whispering lips hiding behind cupped hands, and it stoked her embarrassment, though she could not exactly say why.

By instinct, she suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him through a gap between the stalls and to side of a building, where not so many eyes would find them and she could try to understand his sudden madness. "What are you doing? Everybody's watching," she panted. Even in the shadows, she was looking around to see who might have witnessed his behavior. The market was alight with the winds of whispers around them.

Yasha, on the other hand, seemed completely uninterested in anything but her. "Is it strange for a captain to give the Queen a flower," he asked, lifting the chromatic blossom up to her again and not taking his eyes away.

The question made her glare up at him, her face reflective of the panic she felt. "Yes, it is!" she replied wildly, though seeing his piercing stare on her and feeling the heat from his body, her objections wavered and she struggled to calm down, though found it difficult for all for all of the same reasons. A draft of sweet fragrance coupled with a grassy smell touched her nose as her attention went back to the flower, which was a single, freshly-cut marigold burning brightly in hues of orange, yellow and red. It was a flower that had meaning for them, for they always reminded her of him and rarely failed to bring a smile to her face. Once more, it drew her red lips into a beautiful smile as she reached up and cradled the flower in her fingers, lifting it to her nose to breathe in the flower's scent, while her eyes continued to dazzle at the spectrum of colors before her. "It's beautiful," she remarked, lost in the decadence of the flower and the way his presence made her feel.

His continued scrutiny of her and the abrupt change in manner finally tore her back to reality and she suddenly looked back to him, her brow twisting and her eyes concerned. "Wait, have you been drinking? Why are you suddenly acting like this?" she asked, something that drew a roguish smile from him. Those kinds of smile only defeated her further and she began to show her impatience for the game he was playing. "I thought it was normal for the Royal Guard not to interfere with the Queen's affairs."

He considered her words carefully. "Perhaps I have lately been too much the man who worries how to serve the Queen, and not enough the man that is deeply, and quite madly in love with her," he suggested, leaning his arms onto the walls at her sides and growing even closer, so much that she had to press her back against the cold stone to try and resist him, even as it was obvious her heart was not in it. As he had trapped her there, with no hope for escape, she could only stare up at him, her white skin burning red, and feel her lips working to speak, but finding nothing but her own imprisoned silence. Her reaction seemed to appease him as he surrendered the entirety of his world to her, speaking as if words were the only thing that might otherwise occupy his lips.

"I fear I have being going about a good number of things in the wrong manner, though I am prepared to remedy that, if you would be so gracious as to forgive me."

As the Yasha she had grown to love had finally come out again, Elsa felt all of her defenses fall and she struggled to breathe, though as her hands playfully worked their way into the folds of his uniform, grasping them tightly and taking revenge for his ruthless success at capturing her, she finally found her voice again, and stared helplessly at the ferocity of his eyes. "You know, I hate it when you sweet talk me like that, when I'm in no position to punish you appropriately," she whispered hotly, pulling on his uniform and timidly biting at her bottom lip in a bid to finally make him understand what he had to do next.

There was no more confusion between them as Yasha pierced the remaining distance between them and kissed her, reveling in the taste of her lips after suffering drought for so long, while Elsa's chest seized in the breath she sucked in through her nose, her senses assaulted and her knuckles drawn white in the force she used to hold onto him. The rest of the world faded away in that kiss and not even the raging inferno of whispers from the market could break the desperation of their embrace. As the line was already crossed, there was no choice but to release all of the pent up frustrations that had dominated their lives for the past few months, making the kiss endure against the currents of the world and even against the logic in their minds. There was no real way to judge what stoked the masses more, the shadowy location of their affair, the overwhelming passion of their embrace or the scandalous length of the kiss, but all of these elements sent the market into a fury, stretching far beyond the cobbled streets and into the castle beyond.

But as true as the affection they felt burning once more, neither Elsa nor Yasha seemed to care.

When their passions had finally been appeased, Elsa and Yasha separated, panting heavily at the exchange and leaning their heads together in an artificial proxy to the kiss. It took several moments just to catch their breath. The world was drowning in the thunder in their ears, though Elsa was the first to regain her senses somewhat, still clinging to his uniform and bringing her crystal blue eyes up to him once more. "But if you're going to put it that way, I guess I can give you a chance to make it up to me," she remarked, once more asserting her authority over him, while giving in to the fact that she would suffer his every whim if she were allowed to do that again.

It was now Yasha that found himself speechless, though he thoughtfully ran his hands down her sides, trying to dominate her for the moment, if only to remember every inch of her and how utterly powerless she made him feel. Only at that moment, when he had finally given in to fate, he realized he had waited far too long to do that, and that he could barely fathom the reasons why it had taken so long to come to his senses.

While Elsa certainly would agree with those feelings, a hint of those reasons surfaced in her eyes and she frowned slightly, feeling the villain for having to bring them back down from the heavens. "I'm pretty sure half of the market just saw that," she admitted bashfully, taking great care to not look out to the crowds and see if anyone was blatantly gazing down their cozy alley, and to let them continue wallowing in the bliss of ignorance.

"There's no way Johann won't hear about this by the end of the day."

At mention of the man's name, Yasha glowered a moment as he cast his eyes to the side. Everyone they had been careful to appease would now have their ammunition, and their struggle was only about to get harder, but as he had her in his arms and felt the warmth she offered him, he defiantly lifted his eyes back to her, showing her that in spite of the consequences they faced, he would have still done it, and had firm plans to do it again. "I no longer care. I did not shatter one fate only to be chained by another. If we are to have our future, we must fight this battle on our own terms," he said strongly, and saw as that confidence infected her. He too felt stronger because of it and was willing to rekindle his heart, if only because it let him be with her in this way, at this place and without schedule.

"I love you, Elsa. All else is tomorrow."

Hearing the words struck the fears and doubts from her chest and drew a wide smile on her face. It was the simple things that brought her the greatest joys and she threw her arms around his neck, putting her head against him and holding him tightly in spite of any watchers, while feeling the wonderful sensation of his arms around her waist and the feel of his heartbeat drumming in sync with her own.

"And I love you. Today, tomorrow…always," she whispered as she clung to him, unsure of the future he spoke of, but willing to walk with him, hand in hand, towards it until it was no longer a thing to look forward to, but a certainty that they had earned and a world that they had forged themselves.

* * *

"This is unacceptable! A captain of the Guard seen intimately touching the Queen, in the market of all places! I've had my fa…the Regent personally demanding to know how we can possibly impart discipline into the common soldier when we have officers that don't understand their rightful place and dare to act so vagrantly. What do you have to say for yourself, Captain?"

Johann was fuming. He had been pacing back and forth in his office since long before Yasha arrived, agitated so much that half of the barracks had gathered in the adjacent room and listened to him rage. Upon hearing of the flagrant display of affection between one of his officers and the Queen, he had felt such a mixture of emotion that it took him several hours before he could even summon the criminal, for although this was precisely the thing he had been waiting for, the truth behind it had struck his heart more potently than he expected, revealing that even though his actions towards her loomed in the gray area between desire and obsession, he truly loved Elsa, in an autocratic and cursory sort of way. The distance that had been growing between her and Yasha had empowered him, fooling him into believing that their relationship had been a farce and a ploy, something that did not truly exist in the world.

After hearing the vivid details of their affair from several sources inside and out of his network, there was no longer any possibility of fooling himself.

The man standing at attention before him had claimed the heart of his queen.

"I fail to see the concern," Yasha replied casually, his hands clasped behind his back in the posture expected of him, but appeared very much in defiance of Johann's mood, something that was only infuriating the young Baron even more. "It was a simple flower given as a sign of the affection I have for the Queen. Surely there have been other accounts of guards showing their devotion."

Johann came to a stop in front of him and stabbed his finger at the ground between them as he dismissed such a flimsy defense. "Don't play coy with me! It wasn't just a simple flower. I was told that you were standing intimately close to her, far beyond the measure for any guard's station. Members of the Royal Guard do not kiss the Queen in the middle of the market!" he wailed, hoping the potency of his mood would strike fear and obedience into his officer.

It had yet to cause its intended reaction. "My apologies, Baron," Yasha continued, staring forward as any good solider would when being berated by a superior officer, though the impish smirk on his face told Johann that while he was entertaining the dress-down, he was very pleased with himself and the crime he had committed. "I accept that my actions might have been unsuitable for the location. In the future, I will be sure to limit my inappropriate contact with the Queen to more private venues."

Johann's anger had never known such highlands and he seethed furiously at Yasha, inches away from his face. Having a captain behave so defiantly was something without precedence, so much so that the young Baron had no idea how to respond. Coupled by the fact that this renewed fire in Yasha's eyes stoked the memories of the first time he had tried to force him from Elsa's arms, Johann was unsure of just how far he could go when punishing him for this outrage. "You forget your place, Captain," he snarled, trying to find his bearing and where he could stand in handling this resurgent threat to his perfect world.

"On the contrary, I am only now remembering my place," Yasha snapped back, finally taking his eyes from the empty distance that seemed to entertain him and laying them on the man before him, showing him by the force of those eyes that even though he had been wandering recently, he had once again found himself, and that he was not about to lose himself again anytime soon. "While I wear this uniform, I am the Captain and you are the Baron. That fact does not elude me. But you might recall what I once told you about the Queen, when we had our first _intimate_ discussion. I am hers, most especially when I remove the uniform. You are not."

"So perhaps it is you that has forgotten his place."

The man's recovered pressure forced Johann back for a moment, making the grasp he had on his station tremble against the overwhelming force that was Yasha. "I'll have you chains for this insubordination," he threatened, showing the rank and power he possessed as Baron of the Royal Guard.

Yasha seemed uninterested in his rank. "You may try. Not even I know how well it would go for you," he warned with such sharpness that Johann did not doubt that trying to physically force Yasha away from Elsa would be a fight unlike anything he was prepared for, and that not even reasonable expectation would shield him from the wrath of the captain-prince. The moment of triumph that Johann had waited for was being strangled before him, merely because for one reason or another, Yasha had experienced a change of heart. The fiery prince was as dangerous to handle as he was in the beginning and Johann felt all of his schemes and efforts crumble before him, lost to the fire that burned within the eyes of the man that had stolen Elsa's heart.

He could not even begin to swallow how infuriating that was.

"Now then, is there anything else, Baron?" Yasha said calmly, staring back forward as an officer being addressed by his commander, though he did not appear to lose any of his levity. "I believe you have me scheduled as escort this afternoon. With or without the uniform, I am quite busy in my commitments to the Queen, you see."

Johann was silent for a moment, glaring at him. As he did not even know where he stood, he felt there was little more he could do than hiss helplessly from the bushes as he tried to maintain order in his world. "This matter of you and the Queen isn't over, Yasha," he warned.

That remark drew Yasha's eyes back instantly, and he was no less absolute in his response.

"No, it is not. Remember that."

Without waiting for any punishment and before being officially dismissed, Yasha turned from Johann and triumphantly walked out of the office, pulling the door shut tightly behind him and leaving the young Baron to wallow in his rage, privately and without relief. Johann's fists were trembling at his sides as he digested his defeat, wondering why he had been powerless against him, and trying to gather the focus to assert himself, yet found that even after the man had left, the pressure in the room remained and he felt unarmed in this battle for the Queen's heart. This inadequacy made him turn to his desk in anger and slam his hands down, roaring feverishly as he thrashed about, throwing anything and everything that had been sitting there into chaotic heaps onto the floor.

He had been beaten again. He had been humiliated again. Above all else, he had failed to claim her again.

The frustration was more than he could bear.

Outside of the door, Yasha had waited just long enough to hear the tantrum, then smiled as he turned and walked proudly back towards his quarters, unsure of what reaction Johann would have when he calmed down, but confident he could handle it. For the first time in many months, he felt good. He felt happy. In just a short time, he would see Elsa again, unbridled and without restraint. Those thoughts put a spring in his step and he could not stop the smile from dominating his face.

He felt like he owned the world.

"Hey, Captain. There you are," said a voice from an intersecting hallway and Yasha turned to find Thias walking towards him. The large guard was taken by the expression his commander wore and felt it mirrored on his own face. "Wow, I bet you could bite both ears with that smile like that. I guess the rumors about the marketplace are true."

In contrast to his usual mood, Yasha did not care about the rumors or what anyone was saying about him and Elsa, and he was far too pleased with himself to address any of it, so he simply tried to control the smile on his face as he waved on the large man. "You know my thoughts on rumors and gossip, Thias. But go on. You look as if you have something to report," he said, figuring nothing could ruin his good mood.

Thias let his amusement of his captain's uncharacteristic mood linger a moment, then suddenly straightened to fulfill his duty. "Yes, Captain. There've been reports of several suspicious characters lingering around the castle, and earlier one of our patrols went missing in the eastern hills. As the Baron sounds like he's otherwise engaged, we thought we'd find out what you want to do about it," he said, not hiding the concerns he had for the content.

Yasha's brow fell as he strangely remembered the fur-wearing men that had been in the market, though he had no proof that the two matters were related. While there were always suspicious characters here and there, the missing patrol was a mark for concern and he crossed his arms thoughtfully, giving Thias's report the diligence it deserved. "While I am concerned about the patrol, I do not like the idea of sending out a detachment when we have reports of vagrants near the castle," he said, assessing the dangers of the paths before him and slowly looking up to the pensive stare on the face of his guard. The cherished duties he had with the Queen were keenly on his mind, but the look on the face of Thias meant he might have to postpone them, if only to give his men some peace of mind.

"They will get another hour to report in. Meanwhile, we will go investigate these reports of suspicious characters. Gather the men and meet me in the yard in ten minutes."

Thias seemed to appreciate the prompt response of his captain and brightened, saluting him before turning and jogging off towards the barracks. Yasha watched him go with another sort of pride in him, one that found that good men of Arendelle and good men of Fria could work together when they held common goals and common ideals such as honor, duty and love. While his time in the Guard had been tumultuous, he found that the connections he forged were not the ones he had intended, the political ones that would stretch out into the royal court and allow him to be with Elsa, but rather the simple ones he had forged with the people of both of their kingdoms, the soldiers and the townsfolk, and that those connections were far more precious to him than the ones earned by speaking well or knowing who to speak to first in a crowd.

As Yasha continued on to his quarters, he found that he did not regret his choice to earn those connections.

Not one bit.

With his mind slightly preoccupied, Yasha did not notice the dangerous feeling in the air or the way his door was ajar until right as his hand was about to take the handle, though he instantly tightened at the prospect of an intruder in his room and held his breath instinctively in his throat. His other hand had reached back for his Xenocryst, though he remembered that the blade was just beyond the door, sitting carefully on the desk next to his bed. Unarmed and tense, Yasha looked around but found no one else within sight, leaving him alone to address whatever might find him inside.

With a glimmer of orange in his eyes, he decided there was always one way to handle the situation.

His hands tight and his eyes ready, Yasha suddenly flung the door open, finding it empty. Taking a few steps into the room, his eyes searched everywhere, yet found no trace of disturbance or burglary, as if no one had been there at all. The only thing that caught his eye was a single scroll of paper on his desk and that simple scrap captured his attention for its ominous presence. If someone was going to take the risk of breaking into an officer's room in the middle of the barracks just to deliver a letter, it was certain to be important.

Still cautious but wildly curious, he approached the desk and reached out for the letter, finding no traps and no surprises, just a simple message scrawled on the paper in fine ink and dubious intent. The message drew a fierce grimace onto Yasha's face and he had to read it several times before he could fully embrace its authenticity, though once he was fully convinced it was the truth, he could do nothing but follow its every command.

Shoving the paper into his uniform, Yasha suddenly flew about his room in a violent fit, grabbing his coat from the rack and his Xenocryst from the nightstand, then rushed out of his room without even bothering to close the door behind him. He did not head towards the yard when his men would be assembling, nor did he go in the direction where Elsa would be waiting for him to perform his escort duties.

His destination was somewhere else entirely.


End file.
